


Burden

by Stockholm_Syndrome01



Series: Burden [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Choices, Deatheater, F/F, F/M, M/M, Romance, Second Great War with Voldemort, Spies, change, dramione - Freeform, sixth year, struggles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 82,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stockholm_Syndrome01/pseuds/Stockholm_Syndrome01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixth year has finally arrived and already, emotions are high. With the return of He Who Must Not Be Named, everyone is nervous for their safety. Harry Potter has his suspicions of the notorious Draco Malfoy and Hermione is out to find his hidden secret. Canon up until the sixth book and will follow the main plot line with more original scenes throughout the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insight

Shuffling his hand deeper into his sleeves, Draco Malfoy hung his head between his shoulders as he took a seat among his usual group of friends. They were all chattering happily, unaware of what he was truly up to. They had asked, prodded and poked at him for any information, but he merely snapped at them. With one glare of a true Slytherin, he was able to shut them up and pull away from them. Blaise had his arm around Pansy's waist as she attempted to make him feed on something besides the chicken legs on the plate before him. He truly ate like a pig.

On the other side of the table, Daphne giggled as she nudged Theo's shoulder when he tried to sneak in a snog at the dining table. Crabbe and Goyle had situated themselves the farthest away, drooling a bit as they feasted upon their meals. The two sleazebags couldn't even acknowledge the conversation that happened before them.

His stormy gray eyes peered from his nearly empty plate at the Gryffindor table across from him. He couldn't even conjure a scowl as his eyes marked upon the bushy rat's nest that was the mudblood's hair, along with Scarface, and his moronic sidekick Weasel. Though he hated them so much, it didn't match the hatred he felt for the snake that marked his left forearm.

His hand conspicuously rubbed up and down his forearm underneath the dining table. He was already getting sick of the warmness that spread across his left forearm whenever it came in contact with anything.

For instance, the other day when Draco had been passing by some muggleborn Hufflepuff, his arm had brushed against the child's robes, sending an intense burn through his arm. It was as if the Dark Mark could sense when a muggleborn was nearby. He still didn't know how exactly to feel about that at the moment. His views upon muggleborns had been instilled him since childhood. One couldn't just get rid of such thoughts in an hour.

But of course, the old buffoon, Dumbledore, believed that the school just needed unity. Especially now that the Dark Lord was at large, Hogwarts needed to be combined as a whole even more greatly. Draco rest his arms flat against the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, hardly paying any attention to the flat out annoying conversation happening next to him.

"What the hell is it?" He finally snapped as Pansy spoke his name for the third time.

"You were sitting on Daphne's robe and she wants to get up." The other Slytherin obviously had been taken aback by her friend's snapping, but didn't display it. Every Slytherin knew that the most important thing was to conceal their emotions completely and appear indifferent to everything and everyone.

His expression sobered some before he sneered at the dark haired girl, snatching the end of Daphne's robes and tossing it away from him. He was earned some scowls, but paid no heed to it all. He had much more important things to be worrying about besides hurting his friends' feelings.

 His eyes forcibly moved from his scurrying friends as they settled again in their seats at the table to the tables across from his. He couldn't help but return his eyes to previously buck toothed mudblood Granger. Imagine his surprise when he found her staring right back at him. His lips curled back in a sneer, his grey eyes daunting as his hand immediately went to his wand, ready to stalk out of the Great Hall.

His eyes remained on the bushy haired Gryffindor for much more time. Really, it was longer than it needed to be done. He had probably been staring at much more obviously now.

He felt a prod on his shoulder again and found that it was Blaise this time. He was staring at him with a scrutinizing glance, his features ruffled in accusation as he parted his lips to berate his best mate. He knew what was going to come out of this. Draco was the one who always had to deal with everything in the first place. Being both a Death Eater and the Slytherin Prince didn't come easily. He would have a busy school year while attempting to complete his task.

"What is it, Blaise?" His voice lowered to an annoyed mutter.

"You keep staring at Granger." Blaise muttered back. "I know you can easily lie to everybody else, but don't even try lying to me, Draco. I know you better than you know yourself." The dark skinned boy intelligently reprimanded him, squaring his shoulders in a way that would keep his body as a shield to the other Slytherins. They could converse without having the interruption of the others listening into their conversations. 

"It's nothing...I'm just trying to find some motivation." Draco nodded his head, a weary expression falling on his face. It was really already overwhelming him. He would have a lot to do by the time that Bellatrix wanted him to. The cabinet wasn't going to fix itself. It had been his idea anyway and now that he had proposed it, he would have to go through with it and fix it all up. Thankfully, he was one of the smartest wizards at Hogwarts behind the teachers and Granger. This would be no problem for him, hopefully.

"Well, tell me if you ever need some help." Blaise mustered a smirk. "You know, I'm always there for you when you need me." His best friend continued. Draco merely nodded, giving his friend what he wanted in the end. There really wasn't anything he could do to convince him anyway otherwise. It wasn't up to him. Blaise really just was too stubborn to think any other wise.

He couldn't stand being in that room any longer. It was beginning to feel nauseating for him. All those people around him...it was possible that after he did what he was supposed to do, all of those kids would be dead. It was a possibility. One that actually was very great.

He didn't know if he was supposed to feel happy and relieved for it, or to be disgusted and fearful. He knew what he had to do. There really was only one option for him now. Even the Order wouldn't take him in because he had been branded with the Dark Mark.

Of course, they didn't know that because then his position at Hogwarts would have been compromised. There really was just no way that he could go to the Order without being found out by either side. On one side of the war, Voldemort and his Death Eaters would kill him for failing them. And on the other side, Draco would be locked up in Azkaban for eternity by the Order. 

"I think I'm going to take a walk. Clear my head a bit." Draco muttered to Blaise quietly, finding a bit of a tremor in his voice. Fixing his haggard appearance, he rose from the table. His pale hand brushed over his face as he felt sweaty and clammy all over. With one quick look to the Head Table where Dumbledore sat amongst all the other teachers, he quickened his pace and stalked out of the Great Hall.

He hadn't even noticed that he had walked out just after Potter and Granger. His feet moved quickly across the floors of the magnificent castle of Hogwarts, seeking refuge in the closest place that he could. His breathing quickened immensely, leaving him nearly choking on air as he found himself in an empty hallway. He chortled slightly, ripping his robes off of his body and harshly throwing them at the wall. His whole body was shaking and he couldn't bring himself to stop as he threw his wand out at the first sound he heard. 

#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#

Rubbing his freckled nose as his sister pointed out the dirt on his nose once again, Ron Weasley rolled his eyes at the conversation at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore's Army, or what they called the remaining active members of the DA, had gathered around the Boy Who Lived who was frowning down at his hands.

His palm covered the ruined potions book he had been forced to use when Ron took the last new copy. He found that his best mate had been a bit obsessed with it, carrying it around everywhere that he went. Ron had even tried to snatch it out of his grip and hand it off to Ginny, but he would not budge!

And now this. He had been telling him and Hermione of his assumptions about the notorious Draco Malfoy since their sixth year started. Just because he had been browsing in Borgin & Burkes didn't mean that he was a Death Eater.

"Let it go, Harry." He moaned, grabbing another chicken leg from the platter before him. He had already eaten a few, but had room for so much more. "The ferret can't even hold his own in a wand fight. How exactly is he supposed to be working for You Know Who?" His voice lowered a bit as he named the villain that had vowed to kill his best friend. 

An aggravated huff came from the boy in the circular glasses and the unruly black hair that barely covered the pink lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was in between his eyes and was hard not to notice. But after knowing him for six years, he found it easy to ignore unlike the first day that he had met him on the Hogwarts train and Platform 9 3/4.

"Ron, I know how it looks, but...even Hermione said that there's something off about him. I mean look how different he looks." Harry's emerald eyes turned to the pale boy across the Great Hall with the incredibly noticeable platinum colored hair that fell in his eyes. 

Hermione had been looking over at the Slytherin boy while her friends discussed his affiliations, taking in little things about him with her analytic eye. Her gaze flicked back to Harry when her own name was mentioned. “Well, yes, I agreed that there’s something off about him, but—”

“That’s entirely usual.” The youngest Weasley interrupted, looking as if she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Everyone knew how much she despised Malfoy. She seemed genuinely interested in what Harry had to say, though… Well, maybe she was just interested in him in general. Of course she didn’t believe his accusations, though! As dreadful as Draco Malfoy was, he couldn’t truly be working for Voldemort. 

With a great sigh that blew a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes, the studious Miss Granger continued. “That’s beside the point.” She sounded a little frustrated, but she had never been  _angry_ with Ginny, per say. Hermione, however, had other things that were agitating her. Like how she had been reading over her new textbooks and found she could retain no information from them. These courses were the most difficult ones she had ever taken! The potions made no sense whatsoever, but at least Professor Snape wouldn’t be there to give her a concussion if she got the answer wrong. No, the Slytherin headmaster would be moving to Defense Against the Dark Arts this year…which seemed like a completely different  _adventure_.

“Harry, you’re probably just really stressed out right now with all that’s going on. But it doesn’t seem logical for a Death Eater to be enrolled in Hogwarts.” Her tone dropped a little and she leaned slightly across the table so that she would not be overheard. Hermione then straightened, running a hand through her frizzy red hair in a futile attempt to keep it manageable. “Who knows? He could just be having relationship troubles.” For a moment, it didn’t seem like she was talking about the Slytherin at all. There was a certain bitterness in her voice, but it vanished in an instant.

Much to Hermione’s relief, Ginny chimed in. No doubt the younger Gryffindor realized her dilemma. “What ever happened to him and Pansy? I haven’t seen them snogging in the halls in a long time.” There was a light lilt to her words that made it obvious that she was trying to bring some brightness to the otherwise gloomy atmosphere. Hermione appreciated that greatly. “Wait, Parkinson is with Theo now, isn’t she? Or did it change again…?”

“Why do you know so much about everyone’s personal life?” Hermione looked as if she might have smiled, provided circumstances were different. It seemed there never were too many smiles these days, besides the ones Ginny forced to cheer everyone else up. It was just so hard to be happy when an evil wizard was out there plotting to kill everyone you loved…

Ginny flashed a wicked grin. “Know thy enemy, Granger….” Her eyes drifted to Harry, the smile fading to a soft one. “Are you all right? Harry, maybe you should just let it go for now.” 

A scowl that could imitate the subject of their conversation settled on Harry's lips. He was irritated about it all. Dumbledore himself was sending him a few mixed signals. Supposedly, he was going to have some private lessons with him soon, and it was eating him alive. What was he going to be learning with him? He knew that it had everything to do with the defeat of Voldemort, and the prophecy that included himself and the Dark Lord.

And it was his entire fault, that his godfather, Sirius Black, got killed that night in the Department of Mysteries. If he hadn't rushed over there, Voldemort would have never gotten the chance to hurt him and his friends, figure out the prophecy, and get his godfather killed. If he hadn't gone, Sirius would still be alive. Everything was his fault. Every single thing that was going wrong now was his fault. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were killing all of those people because they really just wanted to unhinge Harry and sober him up before viciously killing him and everyone he loved.

 "It doesn't matter! Dumbledore can't exactly just deny a wizard the right to come to Hogwarts." Harry's hand hit the table a bit roughly, attracting the eyes and ears of nearby students. "I mean...you know what we saw at Borgin and Burkes. What else could he be showing? He put out his left arm, Hermione. What logic can you come up with now?" He questioned her a bit harshly, overwhelmed by everything.

"Woah, mate. Calm down, will you?" His red haired best friend frowned, his shoulder nudging him lightly. His mouth had a bit of sauce coating the sides as he finished off another leg and setting the meatless bone on the side of his plate. "Hermione's right. Come on, she's always right." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly in her and his sister's direction. "You know what?" He prompted, his dark blue eyes lighting up as he came up with some master idea.

The dark haired boy sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders as he turned to face his friend, ready for whatever bizarre idea he had come up with. "What?" Harry muttered in response, finding it hard to pay attention to his friends now that his thoughts were occupied on so many different other things. 

"If we used the Marauder's Map tonight and you dad's invisibility cloak...and we followed Malfoy around, I bet we won't find anything suspicious about the ferret." He proposed, turning away from his food for one second to explain his idea. "The girls are right. He's probably just going to be slugging around with some girl in one of the broom closets now that Parkinson left him for Nott." He snickered a bit at that, his eyes flickering over to the blonde haired boy across the Hall before returning to Hermione and Ginny. "I don't even understand how you find these things out, Ginny." He sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, not all of us are social pariahs, Ronald.” Ginny said, easily taking jabs at her older brother. After all, she was fairly popular. As the twins put it, she was too popular for her own good. It seemed that Ginerva Weasley had blossomed recently, becoming a fairly agreeable young woman and overcoming her shyness around Harry. It was like she had already become the person she was meant to be. Hermione wished she could say the same thing. But unfortunately, she was struggling a lot with her identity at the moment. It was hard to be a hormonal teenage girl when the world was crumbling around you. 

Harry grumbled a bit, knowing that the points that his friends were making were actually very good points. "Okay, okay, fine. We'll do that, then." He gave in to their demands outwardly. It didn't matter though. He would do his own research on his own time. "I'm fine, Ginny. I promise." He muttered to her earlier question as she attempted a smile at him. 

But then Ginny frowned slightly, disappointment passing through her eyes for only a brief moment before she regained her composure. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the Boy Who Lived. It was obvious she didn’t believe him, but all Ginny did was reply back with an echo, “Fine.” 

The feeling returned. It felt like she was being burned alive. Hermione held Draco’s wicked gaze for only a moment, a moment that had been caused solely by her pride, but then averted her eyes once more. A fleeting thought passed through her mind:  _Is an evil glare one of the characteristics that is used to chose Slytherins, or do they all have to learn it once they are already sorted?_  

Hermione’s attention was soon stolen away by her dark haired friend once more as he slammed his hand down on the table, making her jump slightly. The Gryffindor girl was quiet for a few moments, letting Harry and Ron talk things out. She felt like an outsider for a moment. What kind of friend was she? She knew that she should take Harry’s side, that she should stand with him in his time of need… But it just seemed so farfetched. Draco Malfoy? A Death Eater?

Hermione sighed, studying Harry for a moment. “If you need to, you know,  _talk_  about any of this, Harry…” She edged, because being the female friend meant being the council in many situations. After a moment of silence, Hermione sighed once again. Why couldn’t they all just sit and talk things out? Honestly, it was ridiculous! “I just don’t think it would be wise to jump to conclusions yet, especially after what all just happened. He could have been showing anything. And if he really were working for You Know Who, why would he be wasting his time being educated here? It just doesn’t make sense…” She shook her head.

“In any case, don’t take it out on us. We’re you’re friends, Harry. We’re just trying to help you.” They had been through everything together, but it seemed that they had been fighting more and more lately. Her eyes then went to Ron, though they stayed there for only a moment before she looked away.

“Ronald, that’s not…a bad idea, actually. But it would be reckless to follow him around…” Though she couldn’t give an example of how the plan could go wrong, Hermione knew there had to be one. Ronald Weasley never came up with foolproof ideas. “Just be careful.”

A scowl settled across the red head lips, his cheeks brightening to color of a tomato. He really had had enough of his younger sister embarrassing him in front of his friends, who were her friends as well. It really wasn't fair. He didn't like the way she would treat him in front of him. But she was right.

She had become extremely popular as she rose through the years. And the only reason people knew him was because he was the best friend of the Boy Who Lived. He scowled at the thought, feeling the green envy pick at him again, but rolled his eyes and returned to the conversation. "Come on, my ideas work sometimes!" He protested, but was really having a hard time thinking up of one.

“Are they ever not?” Ginny smirked in Hermione’s direction. 

“They never are!” Hermione actually smiled slightly, much to Ginerva’s pleasure. Then, her gaze fell on Harry again. Her eyes softened and her voice became gentle as she then spoke. “Harry…I know you’re going through a rough time right now. If you need us…we’re here. It isn’t your fault, Harry. You can’t keep blaming yourself.” 

Harry slumped his shoulders, staring down at the book in his hands once again. It really was helping him. He knew one of the spell's in there though from somewhere before though. He just couldn't pinpoint it. Something Snape told him...Levicorpus. Of course! It was in the memory that he had seen when practicing Occlumency with him. It had backfired and he had seen his own father cast the spell on Snape when they attended Hogwarts. Was this book his father's then?

"Yeah...look, I think I'm going to head back to the common room. Slughorn's assigned us a foot long about Essence of Dittany." Harry muttered to his friends, ignoring what they were saying. His mind was set now. He would figure this all out, he decided. He would avenge Sirius, and his parents, and Cedric. Everyone would be avenged when he defeated Voldemort. And that started with Draco Malfoy. 

He shuffled his feet towards the Gryffindor common room, elated that for once his friends actually weren't seeking him out when they were worried for him. He could see what they reacted like when they were around him. He was just spoiled fruit amongst all of them and it was hard for them to deal with it. Everyone else had really moved on. He was still stuck in the past. Because he was the stupid Boy Who Lived.

If he could live, why couldn't he save everyone he loved? He lost all of his family! No parents and no god father. Who would he lose next? Ron? Hermione? The entire Weasley family? He couldn't bear to lose them all. So, his only choice was to exclude the people he loved out of his plans to destroy Voldemort. Harry Potter seated himself in one of the lounge chairs of the Gryffindor common rooms, his eyes searching through the Half Blood Prince's Potions book through his circled glass, his eyes rereading over and over the spell Sectumsempra. There was a warning underneath. _Use against enemies._  

His eyes were still on her. Hermione could feel them burning into her skull no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the subject at hand when someone was glaring at her. Of course, Hermione tried to think logically. She denied that he was looking at her. Maybe his sneer was directed at Harry or someone passed them all. Maybe it was just his natural expression? Was it possible that he knew they were talking about him? No, that was impossible...right?

Hermione opened her mouth as if to add something, but Harry was already leaving. Her face visibly fell, as did her spirits. Had Harry even been listening to her? They were supposed to be best friends, all three of them, so why were things so complicated now? The bushy haired witch mumbled something unintelligible under her breath before catching sight of the red headed girl beside her. Ginny's eyes trailed after Harry, looking disappointed and very concerned. Hermione placed a gentle hand on her younger friend's shoulder reassuringly before saying,

"Don't worry. He'll be okay, Ginny." 

The Weasley's eyes snapped up in surprise. "What? I - " She stuttered, but Hermione had already started talking again.

"I should probably be going too, actually. I - I need to get some studying done and...yeah." She mumbled. Hermione stood up from the table, a book in her arms. She never went anywhere without something I read. "I'll talk to you later, Ginny... You too, Ron." She mumbled the last part, already starting off. Hermione didn't want to talk to Ron at all right now. Mainly because of Lavender Brown. It was only natural for her to be territorial about her friends, right? It wasn't like she was jealous. It wasn't like Ron meant anything to her...

As they faded away from hearing distance, Hermione barely heard Ginny remark, "Don't even start, Ronald!" She knew the freckled faced girl was probably smirking, trying to look confident while her cheeks were ablaze.

"I can't believe this." Ron scowled at his sister as he was left by his two best friends to feast alone. She was giving him the same look the mother of the Weasley clan gave to nearly all the boys in the family when they began to pig out on all the food that they choked down. "Out of all the people, I'm here with you." He wrinkled his nose.

His expression quickly faded as a figure dropped down on the seat next to him. "Oh, Lavender. I haven't seen you since last year." Ron quickly greeted, a bit confused but he bizarre and sudden introduction to the curly blonde haired girl that roomed with Hermione. 

Ginny rolled her eyes at her elder brother. "Don't worry, I won't torment you for long. In fact, I should probably be going..." She muttered, averting her eyes as she saw Lavender approaching. She was so bloody annoying! And Ginerva's brother was so oblivious! Of course, she was a little biased. Her and Hermione had gotten closer recently.

 Ginny saw the signs that the other Gryffindor was sending to her brother. Perhaps she would have stayed and scorned Ronald more if it weren't for the worry biting at the back of her mind. "Uh, hello Lavender. I'm just going to go...meet up with Dean." She said hastily, rising from the table and gathering her things. Ginny wouldn't stand to be a third wheel for longer than necessary. 

Ron’s eyebrows raised high on his forehead as his sister hastily moved around the Gryffindor table and gathered her belongings, hurriedly whisking away to meet with her boyfriend. A scowl settled across his lips. Dean Thomas was his friend and his roommate, but he was also dating his sister. And he didn’t like that at all, not one bit.

He didn’t like anyone that was interested in his younger sister like that. None of them were good enough for her. Certainly, Dean wasn’t. Okay, he was a good guy and all, a part of the DA, but he shouldn’t be dating his sister. “So, what did you do over the summer?” The red head eventually asked the blonde next to him, perching his arm on the table as he settled another chunk of meat in his mouth. It was a surprise really that Lavender was ignoring his messy eating, yet still adored him.

But she did not leave to see her boyfriend. No, Ginny made her way instead to the Gryffindor common room, concerned for the well being of her brother's best friend. Plus, it seemed that there was something growing between them, something Ginny couldn't explain.

"Well, what do we have here?" She raised an eyebrow, tossing her books on a nearby end table in the Common Room. "The Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, studying like any normal teenage boy?" She shook her head with a teasing tsk sound of her tongue. Then, Ginny sat across from him in another chair, a table and an eternity separating them. 

On the other hand, Hermione just needed to get out of the Great Hall, needed to have some time to herself. So that was exactly what she did. Hermione bolted to the halls, her auburn curls bouncing behind her as she escaped down corridors. She couldn't go to the common room, for that was where Harry was. So where was she to go? Hermione eventually found herself sitting on a window seal in one of the halls, looking down at the courtyard. An opened book sat in her lap, but she paid little attention to it. 


	2. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little run in between Hermione and Draco leaves some unanswered questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N) : So, thanks for all the people who read the first chapter! Here is the second one, and I’m hoping that more people find the story. Please, tell me if you liked it or not!! I would really appreciate some criticism and input from someone. And if anyone wants to beta the story, please message me! Thanks!  
> Disclaimer: I will never ever own Harry Potter…*sobs* But thanks to the amazing Angelena, and myself, we can own this plot and continue our Dramione dreams!

_Just get over it. You have studying to do!_  But Hermione couldn't get the thoughts out of her head. Anyone with eyes could see the way Lavender threw herself at Ron, and Hermione feared that Ron might return her affections... But Hermione just thought Ron deserved better, that Lavender was bad news! It wasn't a personal matter and Hermione wasn't jealous. At least, that was what she kept trying to tell herself. It seemed that she was growing farther and farther apart from her two best friends. Harry wouldn't let her help him with anything anymore and, to be honest, she had some hard feelings towards him because of how well he was doing in potions. Wasn't  _she_  supposed to be the smart one of the group? Hermione was beginning to feel like she no longer had a place among them at all.

Just as she had started to read over her potions book and distract herself, the muggle born witch heard someone coming down the hall. They probably wouldn't notice her at all due to the fact that she sat in a little alcove. If she stayed silent, they would simply move on and she would be left to her solitude. But, being the curious young lady that she was, Hermione couldn't help but glance over when she saw dark fabric soaring through the air out of the corner of her eye. 

She never expected to see the subject of their recent murmurings standing in the middle of the hallway, his robes carelessly discarded on the ground. Draco's expression shocked her so much that the potions book slipped from her hand, landing on the stone floor with a clacking sound. Hermione froze before jumping to her own feet, drawing her own wand in a fence dive position in response to him. Every since last year, that reaction had become instinctive. Panic welled in her chest. Had she seen something she wasn't supposed to? Could Harry have been right? What was wrong with Draco? 

Were her burning cheeks visible?

Never had the frizzy haired muggle born expected to see such a display from one of the people she hated most. And she couldn't get over how torn his expression had looked just a moment ago. She must have been imagining it. Maybe...he was just ill? Or maybe this was someone else using a poly juice potion to look like Draco! Or maybe...the latter was a little farfetched.

Hermione let out a sigh once the panic had left and she realized she had nothing to fret over. It was only him, normal Draco Malfoy that had nothing to do with You Know Who. She crossed her arms, wand still in hand. "You're going to get us  _both_  in trouble, Malfoy!”

He was shaking with aggravation and anger, furious that someone had been around him when he was like this. The feeling was overwhelming and he didn’t know why he was even acting like this in the first place. Of course, it had everything with the letter that he had received earlier that morning in the mail when his dark shaded owl, Ferrol, had gracefully landed on the Slytherin table of the Great Hall.

Many other students had received their own mail from their own parents, asking how their first few days at Hogwarts had gone and whether they needed anything from home. He recalled in earlier years, his mother would send him a large woven basket of sweets of every kind. He remembered that she specifically sent his favorite candies from Honeydukes just because his father always reprimanded him for eating them. It was one of the more candid memories he had of his family.

But that had really changed since the summer. His family had become darker over the summer, forced to do things that some are absolutely disgusted by. Draco remembered the evening that it had all occurred. The pain still lived in his nightmares every night. The ever hanging presence of failure lured itself in his mind, creating fear for any future mistakes. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. No, not with the task that he had. He should have probably gone up to the Room of Requirement already and found the Room of Hidden Things. He really needed to work on the Vanishing Cabinet before time began to run out. Because, he really was on a time limit. Who knew how long it would take before Dumbledore caught onto his plans? Or really, what he had really happened to him during the summer break.

His eyes punctured the being across from him with a sneer, unbelieving of the fact that he could have already been caught. He hadn’t quite done anything yet, so his position hadn’t really been compromised as of now. There had been no Dark Magic thrown around, nor had he said anything out loud that could have been eavesdropped on. All that had happened was that he threw his cloak roughly on the floor. But now, there was someone just a few meters away, having had seen anything. He stepped forward, finding light shed on his face, but the figure across from him was held in the dark. Squinting his eyes, he found that the imposter was none other than Scareface’s pet mudblood, Granger. 

But he wasn’t even sure if that was what she was anymore. A mudblood or a muggleborn?

His wand shook a bit in his hand as if he were reluctant to actually cast a spell. What was he going to do when the other wizard at his wand point was Dumbledore? How could he ever defeat one of the most powerful wizards in the wizarding world? It was an impossible task, one that he was sure to fail. Maybe that was what the Dark Lord had been aiming for in the first place. He wanted Draco to fail, just as his father had. It was all repentance and revenge. There was no way out of this. Either way, he was going to be dead.

“What? No Scarface and Weasel this time?” Draco scoffed, playing it off as he usually would. He could not fail. “I’d think that neither of them would want to leave their precious mudblood alone when so many are so eager to get their hands on her.” He kept his wand arm out, pointing at the witch’s face.

“It’s none of your business!” Hermione wasn’t going to stand there and tell him exactly why she was alone. She wasn’t going to explain how Harry kept waving her off and Ronald was completely clueless about her feelings. Instead, she matched his sneer with a certain fire of her own, eyes burning with defiance. Again, it was her pride that was her fault here. Hermione was not reckless. She was no irrational. But she would  _not_  let Draco win this little stare down.

Then, there was the fact that she did not keep her wand pointed at him now, though his was directed menacingly at her. It was her way of silently challenging him. Hermione had not planned to engage in a battle of wills with one of her enemies when she sought refuge in the hallway, but that was how it turned out. “And I could ask you the same question, you know. Where are your  _henchmen_? I thought they trailed you at all times.” She hissed.

He could see her easily getting defensive after he spoke out loud to her. There was definitely a hidden story behind her own angst. Female hormones, perhaps? Of course, being around Potthead and his sidekick would probably get gruesome sometimes. Perhaps she had finally opened her eyes and figured out the kind of people she was hanging out with. He didn’t really have much say against it, though, as the two of them weren’t really ever on speaking terms. Of course, the only time they spoke to each other was if they were snapping insults at each other. Most of the times, it was amusing. It would be his daily amusement to play around with the Golden Trio and annoy them senseless.

He especially loved to rile up Weasley up because he would get all red in the face, similarly to the color of his hair. “My henchmen? I assume Crabbe and Goyle would be stuffing their faces like Weasel would be right now.” Draco answered her a bit thoughtfully.

Hermione found herself forgetting all about Draco’s abnormal little episode, his anxiety attack in the halls. It was hard to find any sympathy for someone who had always been cruel and never given her any reason to pity him. Didn’t Draco get everything he wanted? Hadn’t he always had things easy and made everyone else’s life a living nightmare?  _Maybe not…_  But Hermione quickly silenced that thought, waving away any kind emotion that tried to seep its way into her mind. Draco did not deserve it and he made it clear he thought the same of her.

But then Draco said that one word that always managed to get to her. She could pretend to be brave in the face of such torment, but being called a _mudblood_ left scars in her heart. And the more it was said, the more she started to believe it. Especially now, when everything was falling apart around her and she felt more vulnerable than usual. She was no more than a filthy mudblood. She would never be a great witch or even a real one.

Though she flinched at the use of the insult, Hermione did not say anything about it. Instead, she protested, “Don’t call him that, Malfoy!” It angered her, that he would call her best friends such harsh names right in front of her. Because it was her friends’ honor at stake now and not her own, Hermione pointed her wand towards him again in a very threatening manner, eyes raging. But behind that anger was something guarded, something that said she was trying very hard not to let him get to her now.

“Actually…you know? I thought I saw Weaselbee with that girl…the one whose name is two colors or something? Rose Brwn, I think…no! It was Lavender Brown. Yeah, that was her.” He seemed to be playing on her insecurities now. It was one of the best methods to get to Granger. She was the bookish mudblood that had the top grades in their year. The only way to prey on her was to work and jab at the insecurities that she held in her roots.

Never could Hermione remember feeling so absolutely mortified in front of Draco Malfoy. Yes, he had said plenty of awful things to her and her best friends before, even hexed them, and Draco always knew what to say to upset her. But now that things were so complicated between her and Ron… “They were not! Ron would never do something like—” Like have a girlfriend? Hermione knew it wasn’t some outrageous crime, but it truly felt like he was doing something awful. By going out with Lavender Brown, all he would do was break her heart.

Of course, feeding off of her insecurities of her friendships with her two goons was a practical way. So, that was exactly what he did. She would surely understand his methods.”I believe he was chumming up with her. I’m pretty sure that she was trying to sneak a snog in.” He continued, exaggerating the scene he had seen on his way out of the Great Hall.

“I – I don’t care what he does with Lavender!” This was a flat out lie. Hopefully Draco didn’t realize that. “He can snog whoever he wants. It’s none of my business and it certainly isn’t any of yours.” She snapped. At this point, Hermione was talking with her hands a lot, waving her wand around carelessly as if she forgot she was even holding it.

Of course, everyone knew of the tension between Granger and Weasley. It was gossip that spread among the sixth years especially. Granger and Weasley were supposed to be together, but the red headed moron was too dimwitted and oblivious as to what Granger felt for him. But then, some said that it was the other way around and Granger was the oblivious one. He knew that that didn’t make any sense, though. Granger was the smartest in their year, and she would not miss that important fact. So, there was something else that was stopping both of them. Draco could see even now as he looked at her face what his words did to her. “Or is it a relationship with Potter that you’re looking for? Nobody can really keep track these days.” He sighed dramatically, lowering his wand arm and carelessly waving it around in boredom.

 “Harry?” Hermione almost choked on the word, an incredulous look entering her eyes. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about the possibility of being with Harry. He was kind and treated like an equal on most occasions, but they were no more than friends. In fact, Hermione considered him to be her brother. “You have to be kidding me.” But what if he wasn’t kidding? What if that was really what people thought of her? 

His methods were working, to say the least. Hermione was in a very delicate state at the time, so it was easy to get to her through her emotions. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she was still powerless to stop it. That was the problem with being both intelligent and emotionally unstable. You knew what kind of mess you were getting into, but you could never help yourself.

No. Hermione couldn’t let Draco get in her head.

“Well, by the way that you are acting now, I can certainly tell that you’re telling the truth.” Draco nodded his head as the sarcastic words left his mouth. Never had he been more depressed about messing around with Granger and her lackeys. It didn’t really make any sense to him.

Clinging to her pride, she mumbled, “I am telling the truth.” Though the words were barely loud enough to be heard and carried no real weight. Hermione hated how Draco managed to get under her skin like that; how he always knew what words would be daggers to her heart. As soon as she was by herself, Hermione knew she would be in tears. Because she was nothing more than a mudblood. Because You Know Who was going to kill everyone she loved. Because her best friend rejected her help. Because Ron Weasley was clueless. Because Lavender Brown existed. 

And then the next day she would get hurt all over again and pretend everything was fine when she looked into Ron’s eyes.

_No_. There was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that kept protesting all of this.  _Stop being so negative, Hermione. You’re better than this. You’re going to back to your room and study and forget about all of this. You are not going to go cry in the bathroom like a pathetic little girl. The time for that is over._  Why was it that her head and her heart always argued like this? Hermione knew she needed to be rational, that there were other things to focus on. She wasn’t just going to go have some pity party every time something bad happened! No, Hermione was just going to work harder, dive into her books and ignore all the nonsense...right?

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, trying desperately to think of some sort of comeback. What was she supposed to say to that, though? That she only reacted that way because Ron was her friend? That she just didn’t like Lavender? Those were all just excuses and as much as she wanted to defend herself to Draco, she knew there was no point.

It was hard not to be insecure around Malfoy, though. “They’re better people than you could ever dream of being. And if you ever touch either of them, I swear I’ll do worse.” While Hermione had been talking to Luna, the blonde girl had mentioned something about a broken nose. Hermione was not foolish enough to think it was a natural occurrence…

At least, this way, she never had to find out what was going on with him. She may have seen him at a moment of weakness, but it wouldn’t happen again. He would make sure of it. And if she ever did come up to him again, a good threat would work. Maybe, he could even cast an Obliviate spell on her and wipe her memories of such interactions with him. He could even do it now. But it wasn’t worth the trouble. He knew that she would figure it all out or even stop him before he would be able to cast the spell. She was smart enough to do it.

“Relax, Granger. It’s not like I care that much about your lives. And I assure you, that there is  _nothing_  you can do, that I can’t do ten times worse.” Draco nearly spat the last words out, sweeping his arm down to snatch up his cloak off of the floor.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself and get her expression under control, Hermione tried to be strong and fierce once more. She didn’t want Draco of all people to think her weak. Even as her mind grew less cloudy with emotions, she couldn’t take the time to think before she responded to him.

“I’m sure you have lots of things to worry about now besides  _our_  lives.” Her voice sounded calmer than she felt, and for the she was grateful. It wasn’t until after the words came out that she realized their meaning. Hermione was testing Draco, implying that perhaps he had more devious endeavors going on. But she didn’t really believe that, did she? Harry was only stressed out from recent events. But Hermione knew better than to rule anything out completely, no matter how farfetched it seemed. 

He didn’t know whether or not he was taking things too far or not. He didn’t really care if he was messing with her or not. Why should he? She meant absolutely nothing to him. He could pretty much see it in her eyes how she was taking this nonsense he spewed out. Okay, maybe, he had seen Weasley and Brown sitting next to each other at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall right before he left, but that didn’t certainly mean that they were going to be snogging next. So, he exaggerated a bit and told a little white lie to her. It didn’t matter much. It wasn’t like anything he said really affected anyone anyway. He knew that Granger would be thinking about what he said now, but later, she would completely forget it when she ran into Pothead and Weasel.

Presently, she narrowed her eyes at Draco Malfoy, wondering if suspicion shone in her expression. But this was just part of the nonsense. Why, for one moment, would Hermione believe that Draco was a Death Eater? It just didn’t wasn’t logical! Hermione knew, however, that she would give Harry the benefit of the doubt. She wouldn’t right him off as wrong just yet… Though she openly doubted him. She actually considered following Draco herself just so she could put her dark haired friend’s worries to rest…

Why were things different now? He didn’t understand truly, but he knew the basics of why things in his life were changing. While others were quite oblivious as to what was happening outside of the walls of Hogwarts, he knew exactly what was happening. He was in the center of everything and there was absolutely no way out of it. His mother was in a danger and so would his father whenever the Dark Lord chose to free him from Azkaban. Things would only get worse. Maybe that was why he continued to speak with Granger. He needed the normalcy of torturing Granger in a way that didn’t harm her. He didn’t want her to be harmed, but he wanted things to be the same as they were back before this summer came. But he couldn’t let her know what was really happening in her own life.

He was happy that he could see the ignorance on her face as to what he was doing here on his own. She wouldn’t know. And hopefully that ignorance would lead her back to the Gryffindor common room, or the library. He didn’t want her to follow him when he left the area. It would be terrible for him and for her if his position in the Room of the Requirement were to be found out. His expression tightened a bit as his grey eyes narrowed down at her at her last comment. She was treading on thin ground now. He could feel a hidden meaning behind her words, but wouldn’t let her unhinge him just because of a few measly assumptions.

“Yeah, maybe I do.”  He raised his shoulders a bit, shrugging slightly as his stern, cold gaze pierced her. He didn’t like her questions and comments. It made him think that she was on to him and that couldn’t be good. Because he knew that the Order was of no help to him. Not unless his family was safe first. And there was nothing that could convince him that the Order had those types of abilities. His mother lived in the manor that the Dark Lord had made his Headquarters. How was she supposed to get protection from the Order without having the Dark Lord figure it all out?

He could see that she was struggling to come up with an answer. It was just as he had suspected. Granger wasn’t always the snappy little girl she appeared to be. He could see that she was feeling very down about this topic in particular and he had pretty much exhausted it. He was actually getting bored now, speaking to her about the little love triangle between Weasel, Granger, and Brown. Why had he even stayed there that long anyway? He didn’t really want to be around her anymore. It only made him think further back to what he hadn’t wanted to remember. A task that would surely end in failure. He couldn’t think of it.

But this subject she waved away after a moment, though she would not totally let it go until Harry would. “You know, a Muggle poet once said, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’.” And if Draco would take it upon himself to break someone’s nose ever again, she would feel a little more than _scorned_. Hermione glared at him as he acted so carelessly about it, being the bane of her existence one moment and acted as if she wasn’t worth his time the next.

“If you couldn’t care less about us, then why don’t you leave us alone, Malfoy? How can anyone be so cruel as to harm those who’ve done nothing to them?” There was disbelief coloring her tone. It was hard for Hermione to understand some of these things, for she had not been raised like many of the Slytherin children had. After all, it was not a healthy man who tortured others, but rather one who was tortured himself.

Hermione was beyond upset with this whole scenario, how she had came out here to be alone and then found herself being insulted by a her nemesis. She couldn’t help herself, really. For when he reached for his robes, Hermione flourished her wand, muttering, “ _Multicorfors._ ” And his Hogwarts uniform turned bright pink. Hermione smirked at him. “In case you were starting to miss Dolores.” Considering Draco and his  _henchmen_  had practically been her lapdogs, always trying to spy on Dumbledore’s Army.

He was pocketing his own wand, ready to stalk off and away from Granger. He wouldn’t be able to head straight over to the Room of Requirement because Granger was sure to follow him. He would have to find a new route in which he would lose his tail and find his way back to his destination. But, of course, something always had to interrupt him.

 His eyes widened to the size of saucers, finding the pink on his clothing unbelievably bright. It burned his eyes and he felt completely exposed in the darkness. His actions were not thought out at all and he had absolutely no control over his limbs as he grabbed her by the collar of her cloak and shirt, pushing her steadily back against the corridor wall. Draco was breathing a bit harder, pushing her against the wall with anger.

“Turn it back, now, Granger.” He growled at her, his signature sneer rising to his lips again as he locked her in position against the wall.

Hermione’s eyes then grew wide as Draco whirled on her. Before she could even think to react, he had her against the wall, holding her by the collar of her uniform. She gasped as she made contact with the hard stone of the castle and her wand clattered to the ground. It shocked her, to say the least. To be honest, it terrified her for a moment, the way Draco acted without thought or remorse.

Hermione wasn’t Harry or Ron. She couldn’t really handle her own in a simple physical confrontation. Usually she never had to worry about such things, as her friends were always by her side and her wand was always in her hand. She found herself wishing she had at least one of those things now. 

“Get off me!” She tried to shove him away to no avail, even placing her hand over his to try and tear it away. He kept pressing her farther and farther into the wall and Hermione felt pain in her collarbone where his fist pressed into her. No doubt it would be bruised later. She thrashed around as much as she could, though he had her in a position where little movement could be accomplished, desperately trying to break free. Draco had never physically harmed her, aside from cases where magic was involved. She didn’t know what to make of it. 

And then, Hermione ushered a quick slap across his face. 

_What would father think of you? Pathetic!_ His mind berated himself as he mulled over his own father’s thoughts about his situation. Surely, his father hadn’t wanted this dilemma to fall upon his family? Surely, he was a good enough father to realize that serving the Dark Lord would not benefit their family? But if the Dark Lord were to win, they would be spared. It was the only good point he could think of in all this time.

What else was there that was good about it? _You’ll be forever admired by all your companions. See, how they wanted to hear all about the task? They admire you…Draco._ His own voice echoed in his mind in such an evil and desperate voice, attempting to convince him in continuing forward.

No, that wasn’t even a rational thought. He had to do what he needed to do to keep his family alive and that was it. Nothing more.

Hermione Granger really would be the end of him. She was the bane of his existence and he just wanted her for one minute to shut her mouth. It seemed that she was always rambling off about something. It annoyed the shit out of him. It was pretty obvious to him now that she knew _something_ about his situation. The Order wouldn’t completely leave her out everything that happened in their meetings. She would have to know even the slightest bit of information. Maybe he could somehow coax her into telling him. Put her under the Imperius curse, maybe?

He didn’t know what he would do. But he had to do something to stop this madness before he was sought out by the Order and finished. Maybe that was better. Being killed by the Order would hurt less than being killed by the Dark Lord. He would surely torture him first. But the Order would put him in Azkaban. Both seemed bad options. What if…what if he ran away?

He shook the thought away. It wasn’t possible. He would be sought out instantly by both forces. They wouldn’t be combined, but he knew that the Order would be looking for him and so would the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters. If he did do that, however, what would happen to his family? They would surely be punished as well. He couldn’t do it, then. He had to just continue fixing the Vanishing Cabinet and attempt to finish the task. His breathing was a bit hard and rough as he weighed his body on top of Granger’s.

He was far more angered about his situation than he was of the pink. He may as well take that anger out on Granger. There wasn’t much she could do about it now. His own actions had confused himself though. Granger looked like a frightened animal underneath him with her wide eyes and struggling body.

Hermione felt as if the walls around her were closing in on her as Draco kept pressing closer and closer, pressing her against the stone hard. She had never been claustrophobic but now, with his body weighing down on hers and those menacing eyes penetrating her own, Hermione could feel the room spinning. She tried her hardest not to wince as the stones on the wall dug into her back and his fists pressed into her collarbones. She wondered if they would just snap under the sheer force.

Such force was completely unexpected, for Draco had never gone this far before. Had Hermione really angered him so much with just a simple color-changing spell? Or was there something more…Hermione wondered again what had been happening before she had dropped her book, before she had alerted him of her presence. Was he really having some sort of breakdown? 

She wondered how bad things would have gotten if she would have done something worse than turn his robes a different shade.

“If you’re such a great wizard, fix it yourself!” Hermione said harshly after she slapped him, fear still clear in her voice, despite how she tried to conceal it with anger and hatred. Her terror only grew more unbearable when Draco was silent, a moment passing between them as his grey eyes pierced her very soul. She didn’t know if he was scarier when he was angry or when he was completely calm.

Hermione’s eyes fell to his bright red cheek, an injury that she had caused. Had circumstances been different, she probably would have given herself a pat on the back for such an action. Now, she felt almost…guilty? She had no reason to be. Draco was awful and he had been asking for it. But Hermione couldn’t help but ask herself what was going on inside his head. 

He couldn’t even comprehend anything as he felt the sharp sting across his cheek with the resounding noise echoing in the corridor. He said nothing as he turned his face back towards her. His left cheek was stained bright red as his blood pooled close to the skin and heat brushed the surface. His dark eyes glared at her as he roughly released her, pushing her back as he gathered himself again.

“You’ll get what’s coming towards you, Granger.”He muttered to her as a dark look passed across his face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Draco cast her one long look, his eyes unwavering as he scanned her face and shriveled up body. A stiff wave of his own wand allowed the lasting bright colors to fade away into its normal dark, black shades with the mutter of the counter spell. With one last breath, he turned in the other direction of the corridor, stalking off.

When he released her, she stumbled, as he had practically been holding her up a moment ago. Hermione’s hand went up to absent-mindedly rub her collarbone. She winced at the ache there, though her eyes never left Draco Malfoy. Hermione was still too stunned to form a coherent thought, and his next words didn’t help. She felt as if he had painted some sort of target on her back, like she had joined some sort of hit list of his. What was he talking about? Those words the instilled fear into her heart… What did they mean? Hermione watched him hurry away from him, shock still clear in her expression. She stayed that way for a few more moments, unable to even move a muscle. 

What if…Harry was right? 

That was ridiculous! But for a moment, she debated on whether or not she should follow Draco. In the end, Hermione was far too upset for a wild goose chase. The fear and astonishment and anger still lingered, and Hermione could feel her eyes sting with the threat of tears. She focused on her anger for a minute to keep them at bay.

And then, wanting to get far away from this place, to rejoin the noise and distractions that Hogwarts could supply, Hermione grabbed her book and wand and rushed back to the Great Hall with the intention of finding Ginny or Neville or Luna or…Anyone! Anyone who could provide distraction from her thoughts, for she didn’t trust her mind in silence.

Okay… Perhaps not anyone. For it seemed the only people left out of their little group were Lavender and Ron. Hermione had already reached the edge of the table before she realized that, as she was too absorbed with her thoughts. No doubt her expression was indescribable and it would be suspicious the way she kept her hand at her collarbone. But those thoughts didn’t even cross her mind. “Oh, um, hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I can leave with read and review? Please? I love every one of you that reads this! PM me if you want to know more, or if you have any ideas for titles. I really would feel so much better if people read and review this more. Thanks, guys!


	3. Mischeif

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice little conversation between Ginny and Weasley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N) : So, slightly shorter chapter! This one is a nice little conversation between Ginny and Harry. Sorry, no Draco and Hermione in this one, But, hopefully, you'll enjoy! Thanks to all of the people who have read this and followed it or reviewed it. I would love to have more thoughts about the story itself, so if anyone thinks the pace is quickening too much or a character isn’t acting how they probably should, just shoot me a message. Thank you!  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the canon ideas. Unfortunately... :/ Plus, the videos I'm posting on the side are not mine either. They are just amazing ones that have caught my eyes and I would love to share.

His finger rubbed carefully over the dried ink on the crinkly, old pages. He didn’t quite understand what he was looking at. There was no description of this spell. It was obviously a spell that the Half Blood Prince had come up with himself. It didn’t make sense that the owner of this book and these markings was his father. James Potter was a pureblood, not a half blood. He had married his mother who was a muggleborn, thus creating their son, making him a half blood. 

So, his father could not be the owner of the book. But he had known the owner. Otherwise, how else would he have known the Levicorpus spell? His bespeckled eyes looked up from the Potions book as he noticed the seat across from him was now occupied by the infamous Ginevra Weasley. “Well, since we actually have a suitable Potions teacher that actually likes me, I think I might put some effort into getting a good grade.” Harry improvised his answer, attaching an attempted to smile to his lips at the only Weasley daughter. 

“That sounds tedious.” Ginny remarked, the same light edge to her voice. Though the smile faded from her lips, it was still there in her eyes. Of course she knew Harry wasn’t really happy, that he was only smiling for her benefit. Ginny appreciated that…but she desperately wished it were genuine. 

“Professor Slughorn seems pleasant enough. I’m sure he’d forgive you if you failed just once…” As she spoke, Ginny rose from her chair, innocent enough as she crossed to Harry and snatched the potions book out of his hands, holding it up as if she had caught him with something he wasn’t supposed to have. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. 

“Honestly, Harry, you never put this thing down. What’s the deal? I’m starting to worry that you actually like studying… You can take a break for once, you know. With all that’s been happening recently, you’re starting to look like you could use one.” 

Harry shrugged his shoulders as Ginny continued to speak to him. He wasn’t really paying any attention to her as his eyes scanned over the pages again. The small writing in ink was just so interesting and he wanted to try all of it out. “Muffliato…” He whispered under his breath, looking up as Ginny was speaking. He spoke out loud again, noting that she couldn’t hear him. Amazement spread across his face as he cast the counter spell for the new spell he had learned. 

Looking down at the book, he hadn’t even noticed when Ginny had rose from her chair and crept over to him. His emerald green eyes shot wide open in shock and surprise as the Half Blood Prince’s book was snatched out of his hands. It was hanging in between the red head’s fingers as she smirked at him. “Ginny, stop it!” He snapped, standing up and snatching the book back. He swallowed thickly as he had seen that he had attracted the eyes of a few other Gryffindors in the common room. 

A sober expression filled his face as he looked back at his best friend’s sister. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I shouldn’t have…I just am worried about these lessons that Dumbledore is going to be giving me and…Sirius just…” He broke off, finding a tight squeeze in his chest again. 

She couldn’t help but gasp as Harry snatched the book from her hand. He wasn’t the type to speak sharply to anyone, but lately… Ginny looked down, for a moment blaming herself. Her gaze then flicked upwards, as she felt the stares of their Gryffindor housemates. Ginny narrowed her eyes at them, making a motion with her finger to signal that they should turn around. This was none of their business. Her soft eyes drifted back to Harry, sympathy shining through them. Ginny let out a sigh. 

“Don’t apologize to me, Harry. It’s fine.” It had remained the fact that he had frightened her a little. And, of course, that he wouldn’t explain anything to any of them. Ginny placed a reassuring hand on the older boy’s shoulder, trying to show him that she understood. “Harry, you shouldn’t worry about the lessons. You’re a great wizard and Dumbledore is a great teacher. And…you can’t keep blaming yourself.” Her expression sobered a bit.

It was uncharacteristic for her to be serious, for she did not like others to see her being unhappy. “Hermione is right. It isn’t your fault. You did the right thing and there was nothing you could do after… Harry, please. We’re all dreadfully worried about you. Just allow yourself to move forward, allow yourself to find what happiness you can. And don’t ever lie to me and tell you’re fine again.” 

He felt as if something else had taken over his body. It was like that moment when his scar would act up in the middle of the night, leaving his body covered in sweat. He knew that he believed that Voldemort was controlling him through his scar, making him the evil kind of person that he didn’t want to be. But, he had been convinced that that wasn’t true at all. This was just a moment of vulnerability. It wouldn’t happen again. Harry was overwhelmed with guilt though at that moment, feeling that he really had done more than just snap at Ginny. 

He drew the book back and stuck it roughly into the pocket of his cloak, finding his eyes wandering everywhere in the Gryffindor common room except for at Ginny. He didn’t want to see that disappointed, pitying expression that everyone had when they looked at him. He saw it specifically around on his closest friends. He knew that they only wanted the best for him. But couldn’t they understand that he just couldn’t move on? His last family had died and it was completely his fault. If he had never gone into the Department of Mysteries, Sirius would have never had died. It was his entire fault. 

“I get it…okay? I know.” Harry muttered to her, falling back onto the chair he had been previously sitting in. “I just can’t do it! I finally…I finally knew what it was like to have a father and he was taken away from me as soon as I got comfortable.” He tiredly murmured. 

Ginny wondered if he could hear her heart breaking for him, wondered if he understood how much his best friends cared. She was quiet for a moment after Harry spoke before her gaze fell on a small group of Gryffindors who kept glancing over and whispering amongst themselves. 

With an annoyed look, Ginny called out to them, “Just leave!” Her tone was of frustration but her eyes were pleading with them. Perhaps it wasn’t the kindest thing she could have done, but honestly, couldn’t they give Harry a break for once? He couldn’t even tie his shoes without the event becoming the gossip of the school! In response to her request, their housemates quickly looked away, gathering their things and leaving the Common Room. That left Ginny and Harry completely alone. 

“Harry,” Ginny said softly, sitting down on the arm of his chair. “There is nothing I can tell you to make things easier. Nothing’s easy anymore. But blaming yourself and piling on work to distract yourself… That’s not going to help.” Ginny placed a gentle hand on his cheek to turn his face towards her. 

“Sirius and your father may not be here anymore…but you’re not alone, Harry. You still have us. We’re your friends and we can get through this together. I’m your…friend.” For some reason, Ginny seemed to struggle with the word. Maybe it was because she had always wanted to be more than just a friend to Harry. “You don’t have to go through all of this alone… I’ll - We’ll be here for you if you let us.” 

His heartbeat raced rapidly as his emerald green eyes searched the common room. He found that several pairs of eyes were peering back in his direction. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He recalled the time when he had been everyone’s leader and it was the right thing to do. Now, Dumbledore’s Army was just all a joke. It didn’t seem plausible to him anymore. What would happen to all those kids when the time for battle came? They had to be prepared of course, but how could Harry possibly be the guy to teach those spells and such? He knew that the others were hoping to revive the DA this year, but how could he? He knew what he did, leading the DA to the Department of Mysteries last year.

It was his fault no matter what everyone else said. He had admitted it to himself a long time ago. Now, all he had to do was move on. But it was just so hard to do. How could he move on from Sirius? His godfather had become more than just a father figure. He had become a friend and an advisor. It didn’t seem fair for him to be taken away from Harry. 

“I’m not blaming myself, Ginny. I’ve accepted the facts.” He started with a sigh. “We all know what the prophecy was saying. It’s going to be me against Voldemort.” He bluntly named the villain, spatting his name out. “And I know I have you guys. I’m trying, I promise. I’m really, really trying.” He shook his head with a desperate expression on his face. “But…in the end, it’s just going to be me and him. And I don’t want the people that I love to be in the crossfire of that.”

With a shake of her head, Ginny insisted, “Well, you can’t keep us out it, Harry.” She dropped her hand away with a sigh, glancing around the Common Room. “There is nothing you can say or do that will keep us away from that battle. They need you right now, Harry – I need you. And there is no way we’d ever leave you to face him alone. To Hell with whatever prophecy that would disagree!” Ginny moved again, sitting on top of the coffee table and across from him now so that she could keep his gaze.   
She placed a gentle hand over his own as she said, “Harry, why don’t you take a break from the studying for a little bit? Your precious textbook will still be here when we get back.” Ginny gave his hand a squeeze. “Come with me.” 

His expression was unreadable as Ginny gave him her perspective of his whole dilemma. As per usual lately, Ginny was always the one to make him listen. He was interested in what she had to say. And for some reason, she always found a way to make someone think that her ideas were the most reasonable, yet unpredictable and fun. “Where are we going?” Harry reluctantly answered her, his eyes looking up from her hand in his to her face where she was smiling slightly at him. He wasn’t sure what to think of Ginny anymore, really. There was still so much about her that he had yet to learn, but found that she had always found a way to captivate her audience, including the famous Harry Potter. 

With a slightly mischievous glimmer in her eyes, the red headed girl replied, “Just for a walk.” Ginny waved her hair over her shoulder with a graceful swoop of her free hand before adding, “I promise it’ll be quick. You can get back to your precious textbook soon enough.” There was a hint of curiosity in her voice, though, for Ginny wanted to know what was so special about that Potions book. Harry carried it everywhere and he had snapped at her harshly when she had taken it from him. Did he really love the course so much? 

“Perhaps you should lock it up somewhere safe in the mean time. Who knows what could happen to it?” She said teasingly, her tone dramatically mocking. Ginny then rose to her feet, tugging at his hand to pull him along with her. She had forgotten that the coffee table and the chair were very close…

So imagine her surprise when they were only a few inches apart. Ginny froze for a moment, looking into his eyes a second before releasing his hand and stepping away, out into the more open part of the Commons Room. There was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t worry.” Her voice was still of a light nature. 

“I don’t think we’ll run into Dean and if we should… Best of luck to you.” There was something in her eyes that betrayed her; something that said she really would want him to win in that sort of duel…So Ginerva quickly looked away from him so that he   
wouldn’t see it. “Come on, Chosen One. I won’t bite.” She gestured towards the door with a little nod of her head. 

He adjusted his glassed perched on his nose as his eyes followed the red head as she gracefully moved around. “Alright, fine.” He sighed softly, rising to his feet as he moved off of the chair. His hand clutched tightly onto the Half Blood Prince’s book, searching for somewhere to put it. 

He didn’t want to leave it around the Gryffindor common room where anyone could come upon it and find what littered its contents. He felt responsible for those texts and didn’t want anyone else to see them. It was quite selfish of him, but he felt the need to keep the words to himself. After all, the person that wrote this book had some connection to his father. Were they friends? Had they come up with the spell together? Maybe the spell was actually his father’s but they had written it down in this potions book. There were just so many questions he still had yet to discover all the answers to.

He felt his arm begun to be tugged at and stepped forward to satisfy her pulling. A sharp breath left his lips as they were only a few inches apart. He was a bit disappointed when she pulled away though. His chin rose slightly as he watched the beautiful red head explain vaguely her plans for him. He found himself actually quite enticed. She had the habit of doing this to him. Maybe it was just her persona, or what he actually thought of her, but he could never really ever deny doing or saying what she wanted for him. 

It was hard to believe the little girl that he had saved from the Chamber of Secrets had turned into such an intelligent, beautiful woman. He couldn’t help the thoughts running through his mind. His ears pinkened slightly, his cheeks reddening at the thoughts that plagued his mind. If only she knew what he really thought of her. He knew that she was dating Dean, which only made things so much more complicated. “Are you sure Dean won’t mind?” Harry asked her carefully in a tentative tone, not wanting to set her famous Weasley temper off.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, feeling her heart skip a beat. "Should he?" She asked, leaving the question loaded and open ended. In a more devious way, Ginny was asking about what he wanted to happen between them. It wasn't like they would be doing anything that Dean would need to know about...Would they? 

There were a million questions in Ginny's eyes and she wondered if Harry had the answer to any of them. It wasn't like she knew what she wanted, either, but she felt...something for him. But Ginny had always felt that way towards Harry, having had quite the crush on him when she was younger. She remembered how embarrassed she would get when Ron or one of the twins pointed it out. How the tables had turned now...

She was relieved that Harry had decided to come with her, though. All Ginny wanted was for him to smile once, a real genuine smile that would prove to him that maybe one day, he could be happy again. There was still hope that they could pull through this. Maybe, that they could all come out unscathed and Ginny clung to that hope. She just wished she could make Harry think positively and that he would allow himself to be...normal every now and then. 

A curious expression littered Harry Potter’s face. He could see from Ginny’s own facial expression that they both may be thinking the same thing. He didn’t want to make any assumptions, but the mere thought that she may feel the same as him made him want to break out of his mood and embrace her. But he held himself still. He may be wrong. She was with Dean anyway. There wasn’t much he could do. But she seemed to be weaning away from Dean all the time. He could see her trying to avoid him in topics of conversation and she would always make excuses whenever he attempted to make plans together. He knew that they were going through a bit of a rough patch.

Was that a good thing for him then? He thought so. It felt a bit guilty on the Chosen One’s part that he was feeling this way. He knew that he had sort of taken advantage of Ginny while she was younger. He had been told countless times by Fred and George as well as the rest of the Weasley brothers of the crush that Ginny harbored on him. And now, it appeared that sense had finally been knocked into him. He was starting to crush on her. “I mean…he has wanted to spend more time with you lately.” Harry ventured, though he was catching onto the meaning quite quickly as they spoke.

“Oh,” The youngest Weasley muttered, studying him for a moment. Ginerva was a bit disappointed with his answer, to be honest. Deep down, she had wanted Harry to admit some sort of feelings for her as well, to say that Dean had every right to be worried and not just because he wanted to be spending time with her. As of late, Ginny was beginning to realize her feelings for Harry were much deeper than she had at first assumed. It was a slow realization, but she was getting there. 

Of course, it didn’t help that Dean only seemed to be driving her away lately. He was just so…clingy lately. It was driving Ginny insane how he followed her around and treaded carefully near her. It was as if he considered their relationship to be a glass sculpture, one that could shatter at the slightest mistake. If he set Ginny’s temper off one time, it would be the end of it. But he didn’t realize that the red head hated when he was so passive, that he would never disagree with anything she said. 

Ginny bit her lip, a small awkward silence falling between them before she picked up the conversation once more. “Well, I don’t want to spend time with him…” She met his eyes for a moment, halfway implying that there was someone else she wanted to waste the days away with. Of course Ginny couldn’t just come out and say any of the things she felt, and she treaded softly on this turf, unsure of where exactly they stood. 

But of course softly meant something different for Ginny, as she was the type of girl who went after what she wanted. If only she knew what that was right now. She held his gaze for a second more before looking away, starting towards the door. “Come on, Chosen One. Before you decide to pick up your book again.” 

His eyebrows rose slightly at the immediate reaction of disappointment that had come from Ginny. He didn’t know if he had said the right or wrong thing. He certainly hadn’t wanted to say one thing but mean another. But that felt exactly like what he did. He knew that he wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. So, why was he contradicting himself anyway? The youngest Weasley couldn’t be his because she was already someone else’s. That even sounded wrong in his mind. 

Ginny Weasley wasn’t just some prize to be won, whether she felt she wanted to be or not. She wasn’t something that someone could just own. She was better than any of them could be, and none of the males here deserved her. Not even him. So, it wasn’t fair for him to even attempt to pursue her when he knew that it would just be a failed attempt. And he didn’t treat well to failed attempts. As much as he would deny it, Harry did want things to go his way for once. Why shouldn’t it? Everything else never went his way anyway.

With the implied meaning behind her words, he felt a spark of excitement and thrill spread across of his face. He could no longer hide his emotions behind some blank canvas on his face. He knew that she deserved better than that, so he would treat her like that. He would do what she wanted. He needed to do and be what everyone else wanted. He needed to be a better friend and a better student. He needed to be a better Chosen One. 

How could he defeat Voldemort if he couldn’t even satisfy the people that he loved? He needed to get his priorities straight and figure his life out. It may not last as long as he hoped, but he needed to make sure that the people that he loved actually lived through the impending war. He had to be the one to do it all. Sure, it would be a lot of work. But it would all be worth it. All of it would be worth it for just seeing that familiar beautiful smile rise to the red head’s lips when she really was happy. He missed seeing that smile. “I’m sure I’m better company anyway.” Harry smiled softly at her, the first genuine smile to rise to his lips in a long time.

Just one simple little smile and it seemed that every butterfly in the world had migrated to Ginny Weasley’s stomach. That was what she had been waiting for, after all, for the great Harry Potter to stop being so down on himself and learn to enjoy things once in awhile. She felt as if she had truly accomplished something here… And then a second later she realized what he had said. Of course, Ginny was immediately forced to wonder how much Harry knew about her feelings for him… 

She smirked at him to maintain appearances. “Well, when you aren’t moping, you’re decent enough to have around…” She said teasingly, though Ginerva truly did value his company. “But don’t let that go to your head, Potter.” She warned lightly.   
Ginny then moved towards him again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching before she whisper, “Just pray we don’t run into dear Ronald.” It was an innocent enough statement, one that left her intentions shrouded in mystery. It was impossible to tell if she really wanted anything to happen between her and Harry or if she was only joking around with him. In either case, she didn’t think Ron would care that much. 

Wouldn’t he be pleased if she should be with his best friend? Surely he considered Harry Potter worthy? Honestly, Ginny thought it was ridiculous how overbearingly protective Ron was of her at times. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. If only everyone else would notice that…

With a devious little wink, the youngest Weasley turned away from Harry and started towards the exit. This time, she did not stop to wait for him, but rather anticipated him following suit. 

Harry moved off of his position against the velvety red seats of the Gryffindor common room. Excitement sprung through his body as he saw that mischievous smirk across the red head’s lips. It was looks just like that that got people in trouble, but he found himself not caring one bit at all. 

He was enjoying himself much more than he had thought that he would and knew that once he went with Ginny, there really was no turning back. She would definitely be a curious case. Things would turn out to be really fun, though, he knew. Ginny was always fun. Following her to the exit of the common room, his hand caught her back, urging her forward. “Well, I’m sure Ron won’t mind too much.” Harry rolled his eyes, his smile growing on his lips.

He felt the stereotypical flutter in his stomach as her spotted one eyelid shut in a devious little wink. He really was ready for whatever she was going throw at him and certainly could not wait for whatever it was that she had planned. She did say that the two of them would just be going out on a walk, but he knew that walks never really remained as walks.

“Oh, really?” Ginny challenged as they started down the halls. She tried her best to ignore the fact that Harry’s hand was at the small of her back, that the feeling sent a thrill of flutters through her body. How clichéd! The red head thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her own feminine impulses. She tried to stick to the topic of conversation to distract herself. “You think Ronikins wouldn’t mind at all if his little sister informed him that his best friend had taken her on a “little walk”, and then proceeded to try and snog her in a dark hallway?” There was a dramatic sort of teasing infliction to her voice, as if she were overacting a monologue on a stage rather than simply talking one on one with a…friend. 

She glanced over at him, that same sneaky little glimmer in her eyes. “Not that I would tell him such a tale…” Of course Ginny was only kidding around, but that gleam in her eyes always made it hard to tell what she would and wouldn’t do. Though Ginny was much calmer than her twin brothers Fred and George, she still had a bit of their mischief. But her little games were not for her benefit, but rather for others. It was always Ginny’s goal to make people smile.

Maybe the two of them would travel to Hagrid’s hut, or they would go to the Black Lake and sit by the edge, watching out for the giant squid in the waters or skipping rocks across the surface of it. He didn’t know, but found that he didn’t really care. He was just excited to spend time with Ginny. It had really been much too long since he ever allowed himself to have fun. And now Ginny was giving him that opportunity. “Can’t you even give me a hint?” Harry pleaded with her.

Excitement coursed through his body at the mere mention of a secret snog in a dark corridor. He knew that she had only been joking, but as his emerald green eyes met with hers, he knew with all kidding aside, there was something there as well. He didn’t think that Ginny would still feel anything for him after pining after him for most of her early Hogwarts years. After being ignored for so long, he knew that she probably had moved on. He thought that she had when he saw her with Michael Corner last year and now, she was dating Dean. So, why was she giving him these messages? He definitely didn’t want to be the one to ruin things for either of them.

Just one touch had made him feel a bit antsy, preparing for the opportunity that could possibly arise in the near future. He didn’t know whether he was just hoping for something that was too good to be true, but he felt that he may just have a chance. Whichever direction tonight’s events led, he hoped that the two of them would come out of it with positive results. Whether it be for something that he yearned more than anything else or it be the simple friendship between the two, he would be satisfied. One, of course, he would be more satisfied for. But nonetheless, Harry couldn’t wait any longer.

She shook her head twice, lifting her nose into the air in stubbornness. “Not a chance, Potter. It’s a secret…But trust me, you’ll love it.” And she really, truly hoped he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading! I’ll update soon.


	4. Resemblance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some cabinet mending and DA coaxing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thanks for the reviews and reads! You all are very special to me for giving my story a chance. Hopefully…it is peaked a few people’s interest. Sorry the updating process is kind of sketchy! I’ll try to keep it under control in the future. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter and the credit goes to JK Rowling.

It wasn’t much of a surprise as to how Lavender Brown had hung herself over Ron without having him push her off. “You know, perhaps one day I can gel your hair up like that one Quidditch player you like.” The curly haired blonde was practically on top of him as her hand played with his red hair, fluffing it a bit through her fingers. “You’ll look really handsome.” She promised in her higher pitched voice, giving him the expression of support. 

Ronald easily agreed with her, his blue eyes widening as he eagerly nodded his head. “You really think so, Lav?” He asked her with raised eyebrows, perching his elbow on the table as he leaned forward to her. The blonde opened her mouth to reply when both of them heard the soft voice of the bushy haired Gryffindor. “Hermione! I thought you were studying.” Ron chirped up with a smile, momentarily turning away from Lavender as he searched his friend’s face.

Hermione couldn’t get Draco’s gray eyes out of her head, how dark and terrible they had been when he threatened her. And how…they had seemed, oddly enough, broken before he realized she was there in the hall with him. She kept trying to convince herself that it was just her imagination, that the only thing that had happened in the corridor was Draco Malfoy being his usual, dreadful self. 

There was no way Harry could have been right about this. It just didn’t make any sense to Hermione. In her mind, Draco had just gone mad. He finally had gone over the edge, graduating from simple insults to physical confrontation. Hermione wondered briefly if such a transformation was worthy of celebration in the Slytherin house, if they would throw him a party and give him a ribbon for scaring a girl senseless. 

But all thoughts of Draco flew out the window when she saw how Lavender was practically draped over Ron. “I decided to take a break.” She mumbled, the lie not hurting nearly as much as the sight before her eyes did. Hermione wondered if the break in her voice was terribly noticeable and if her eyes gave her away now. Surely she must have been a sight for even someone as oblivious as Ronald Weasley, with her paled complexion and the emotions threatening to break through her eyes. Hermione looked down, wishing for a moment that she could sink into the floor. She did have her wand in hand…

She did not, however, chicken out and try to become one with the stones at her feet, but rather stayed planted there as she remarked bitterly, “She’s lying, Ron. You’re hair would look dreadful like that.” If she had thought insulting him would make her feel any better, she was wrong. Maybe she would at least stop him from making a terrible mistake appearance wise. Hermione then looked up, opening her mouth as if to say something else, something painful, before she closed it again, looking away. 

“Never mind.” She muttered, already turning and hurrying away from the Great Hall. Hermione knew it was silly of her. It wasn’t like Ron and Lavender were dating, despite what Malfoy had said, and it wasn’t like he had any sort of commitment to Hermione. But she was roommates with Lavender. She knew what that bimbo thought of him… 

Pride ran through the red head’s body as he felt the pretty blonde haired curl play with his own hair. He hadn’t quite expected it, of course. He didn’t even like Lavender that much. She and Parvati had always been the two annoying gossips that always hounded the Golden Trio with questions whenever the Daily Prophet published something new and scandalous about the infamous Boy Who Lived. 

And now, Lavender had seemed to lost interest in the Chosen One and found interest in Ronald Weasley. Finally! Someone who appreciated him for him and not whom he was friends with. What did he have to show off anyway? Harry was the savior and Hermione was the brains. What was he? The brawns? No, he wasn’t all the strong. The strategic one? No, that was more a mix of Ginny and Neville’s talents. What was his purpose in this all?

His attention wavered back and forth in between his friend and the female that had now caught his eyes. After aimless fawning over one girl, he had given up. And now, he was treating himself to the attention and affection of a new girl. Lavender Brown was the perfect person for that role. 

“Don’t listen to her Won-Won.” The blonde murmured in his ear, but it was loud enough to reach the other girl’s ears. “What does she know about hair anyway? Look at that rat’s nest she has on her head.” She muttered, her hands stroking his shirt collar slightly in between two of her fingers. Ron nodded dumbly, a small frown rising to his lips as he caught Hermione’s facial expression before she ran off out of the Great Hall.

"Won-won?" Hermione demanded, as if Lavender had insulted her dead grandmother. There was a certain amount of anger in her eyes at the nickname, but that anger faded into hurt soon enough. Of course Lavender's comment about her hair struck a nerve, and of course that ninny had meant for her to hear it. 

Was Ron seriously going to sit there and let her say such things? And to think just moments ago Hermione had defended him to Malfoy. It seemed that favor would not be returned here...and that hurt most of all. Hadn't Hermione been the one by his side the whole time, the one who kept him alive all the bloody time? And he didn't even care about her at all, eager to trade her for the next girl that came along. "Goodbye, Ron." She said, her voice hard and bitter sounding.

Ron looked up from the pretty blonde, a dreamy expression in his eyes. “Huh?” His voice lowered an octave, a bit confused as he saw his friend stalk out of the Great Hall. Her goodbye had been in a tone that he hadn’t certainly appreciated, and knew immediately that something was wrong. But he wasn’t too keen on getting up from spending time with Lavender to go figure it out. He knew Hermione. A book was probably checked out of the library or something and she was upset that she couldn’t do next week’s assignment on whatever potion Slughorn had given them. His blue eyes returned to Lavender, smiling widely as she continued on about the use of hair gel and what it would do to make him look more handsome.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

He felt that the room was closing in on him. Panic spread out through his entire body. Why had he said that to her? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. He just messed up everything! Of course, he was screwed now. His fists balled into fists by his sides as he pushed himself away from the bushy haired muggleborn. He couldn’t think at all. Everything was just one giant blur in his eyes. Everything seemed to blend with each other, making it impossible to actually focus on anything. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gasped a breath in, attempting to control himself. He could still feel all that anger than had coursed through him when he had pushed Granger against the wall. It was undeniable that what he had felt was power. And he had wanted more.

It wasn’t right. This was surely what the Dark Lord felt every day now. He felt this power as he commanded his troops of Death Eaters, organized raids, or let his pet snake, Nagini, feed on tortured muggles or muggleborns brought to the manor. He knew now what power really felt like. And he didn’t know whether he liked it or not. Definitely having that control over someone felt good, but then seeing the scared expression in her eyes made him desperate to tuck his tail in between his legs and run in the other direction.

It was scary seeing one of the bravest people he knew look so frightened. He could see that she was fearful, but put a familiar looking façade of anger and rage. Oh, he knew that she probably had been angry with his actions. But surely, her fear for what had happened would have overwhelmed that anger incredibly by a landslide. He knew because it was exactly how he felt whilst being “treated” by the Dark Lord and his Aunt Bellatrix. It was literally how the entire summer went on. His aunt and the Dark Lord played around with him. 

Some of it benefited him. For instance, now he knew how to protect himself from the mind attacks of others. He could easily hold a shield up or pull up certain memories if a Legilimens was attempting to sneak into his mind. He would easily be able to block it using his extensive knowledge of Occlumency. It would be useful if he were to ever be confronted by the Order and they attempted to get him to spill all of his secrets. 

Of course, Draco could also use it to block some memories or conflicted ideas to the Dark Lord. It wouldn’t be good for him if the Dark Lord knew of his shaky loyalty to the snake. Of course, you’re loyal! The Dark Lord will reward you when you kill Dumbledore. The old buffoon won’t even see it coming! The voices in his head sounded eerily similar to that of his Aunt Bellatrix. It was that that scared him the most.

Eventually, Draco had trekked across the great corridors of Hogwarts, finding himself in front of a familiar plain wall on the seventh floor. Swallowing thickly, he pulled out his wand and walked back and forth in front of the wall three times saying, “I need the Room of Hidden Things,” each time that he walked pass the wall. His eyes surveyed the wall as a dark line began to run down the center of the blocked wall. 

Slowly, images of black iron showed up on the wall in between the blocks, a magnificent image of a door before him. It became solid and three dimensional. Draco held the door handle tentatively, finding it cold to the touch as he pulled it open. With one last search of his eyes over his shoulder, he slipped inside of the Room of Hidden Things, closing the door behind him. The iron gated door vanished as soon as it was closed, returning to its original image of a sandy, blocked wall. 

He was shut alone in the Room of Hidden Things, surrounded by lost items everywhere. The area reeked of an old antique store with items one would find there. He didn’t understand why someone would be hiding a chair here, anyway. His pale, long fingers skimmed over the tops of the furniture that for some reason were placed in here. There were several rows and columns of items separated throughout the entire room. He recognized a drawer sticking out of the top of a tower of items. He knew that one push could knock everything over. He would have to be careful of where he stepped while in there. It was all very dangerous even to set foot in the room, but some measures needed to bet taken to finish a task. And his task needed to be finished.

He walked by a clump of old broomsticks tossed aside carelessly on a chest full of older clothing. Everything in the Room of Hidden Things seem to have been centuries old. He wasn’t even sure of how old the Vanishing Cabinet was and whether or not it would even be able to be revived. But, this was really the only way he could think of to getting the other Death Eaters into Hogwarts without alerting anyone inside of the school. 

Flooing in through the fireplaces would have been possible, but the castle walls would immediately alert the Headmaster. Plus, the only Floo fireplaces he knew of were in Dumbledore’s office and in some of the other teacher’s rooms. That won’t work. And the castle didn’t allow anyone to apparate inside of the castle walls. Sure, someone could apparate outside the walls, but how were they supposed to get in? The castle was under severe lockdown right now with the gates charmed and anchored, ready for any attacks. And that was where the Vanishing Cabinet came in play.

An irritated expression crossed over his face as he slammed his fists down on the cabinet doors. It was growing quite hard to concentrate. Doing the same spell over and over made his head spin and he wasn’t sure if he could keep himself in the room much longer. It had come to occasion that he would accidently fall asleep in the Room of Hidden Things while trying to fix up the cabinet. His housemates had begun to notice his absence more often. He wouldn’t be with the other sixth year Slytherins in his classes and would hardly be seen at any meals in the Great Hall. People were starting to worry and become suspicious of him. He had already been berated by Snape for not being on time and not keeping up appearances.

People noticed when Snape would snap at Draco during classes. Everyone was used to seeing him being treated as Snape’s favorite, being able to get away with pretty much everything in class. He could be picking on Potter and Weasley during class, sending the two of them bewitched drawings or something. Snape would catch them and immediately blame the two Gryffindors for the actions. He would never get any detention from Snape. 

It was different today. Earlier, he had arrived to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom a bit late and when he had walked through the door with such a haggard appearance, Snape very well had clutched him by his shirt collar and dropped him in his seat in the front. Several House Points had been taken away and a week of detention had been handed out to him. He didn’t understand the greasy man anymore.

He had thought that with his position in the Dark Lord’s ranks, Snape would be an even more reliable benefactor to him while attempting to pursue his task. He was wrong, however. Snape had been much harsher to him ever since he had become a Death Eater. He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t wanted Draco to join the Dark Lord’s ranks or because he was envious of the task that he had been given. It appeared to him as if Dumbledore and Snape’s relationship was quite close, but one never knew really. Someone could really hate someone underneath so many thick layers of skin. And he knew one hundred percent, that Snape had so many layers that it was hard to figure out whether one was peeling back another layer or scraping the bottom of the pit. Perhaps, it would be alright to ask Snape for just one favor and see how that turned out. Perhaps he would have liked to help Draco with the Vanishing Cabinet. No. This task was only for Draco. And him alone.

His choices seemed so much more limited now. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He felt lost as to what he needed to do and it literally hurt his mind to think anymore. How could he possibly do this? It felt impossible in his mind, but he knew that there had to be some way…somehow this Vanishing Cabinet would work again. And it would be up to him to figure it all out. No one else was going to be aiding him in this task. He didn’t want anyone to help him anyway. It felt like it was his responsibility anyway to do so. He couldn’t burden another person with the impending threats that the Dark Lord would kill him if the task wasn’t completed. No, he wouldn’t allow his own mistakes and actions jeopardize someone else’s life.

It wasn’t like that Dark Lord would bat an eye or even flinch if he had to kill his new protégée in front of everyone because he had failed his task. He was sure that the snake would certainly take pleasure in torturing the young Malfoy heir. It would certainly be the most painful experience, he knew. He had seen what the Dark Lord did to those that disobeyed him or even if his own plans had not succeeded. He recalled the time after several Death Eaters had planned an attack at Muggle London, shattering the holdings of a famous bridge there. There was a brutal beating to a few specific Death Eaters because they hadn’t killed enough Muggles for the Dark Lord’s taste to be satisfied.

He knew that Vanishing Cabinets were highly popular during the First Wizarding War. In the event of a Death Eater attack, one could simply disappear to its sister cabinet until the danger had passed. A pair of Vanishing Cabinets would act as a passage between two different places. It was why if an object was placed in one cabinet, once closed, it would appear in the other cabinet. Draco needed the Vanishing Cabinets to transport specific Death Eaters, including his Aunt Bellatrix, into Hogwarts without having them be detected by the castle walls or the Headmaster himself. 

It would help greatly that the cabinets seemed to ward off all known defensive spells, allowing the Death Eaters to successfully transport themselves from the sister cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. He knew from Montague’s journey through the limbo of the cabinet that it had been broken and the only way to fix it was with this one spell that Draco had discovered while searching heavily through books that now piled the sides of the dark, wooden cabinet. “Harmonia Nectere Passus.” Draco muttered again, his eyes closing as he tried the spell again.

As his eyes flashed open, his hands retreated to the iron handles that would open the cabinet wide. A thrill went through his spine as he felt that this time he may have had pushed some limitations a bit further back. Of course, it would take time to mend the broken limbo. And while he would have loved to place certain Death Eaters, including Aunt Bellatrix, in some eternal limbo, he knew that he couldn’t.

If those Death Eaters neglected to report back to the Dark Lord, or even if Snape reported that Albus Dumbledore had not been murdered at the hand of Draco, than it would only mean bad news for him. It was why this spell had to work. Exhaling out deeply, he pushed the door wider, finding an empty space inside of the cabinet. His eyes searched the cabinet as if hoping that something would have been sent over from the sister cabinet in Borgin and Burkes. Perhaps it would work if he tried sending an object over to the shop instead of having Borgin send him something to Hogwarts itself.

Swallowing thickly, Draco moved away from the open cabinet, his eyes searching for something to place inside of the cabinet. This item would prove to tell him that the object had arrived in Borgin and Burkes and had been returned successfully. He searched the surrounding area of the Room of Hidden Things, spotting a green apple that he had brought earlier with him, but had neglected to eat. Eating wasn’t much of a priority anymore anyway. It didn’t matter whether he kept himself nourished. Every bit of energy was being placed in making sure that this Vanishing Cabinet was fixed in the end of it all. 

Snatching up the green apple from among the stacked books, he tossed it carefully from hand to hand, surveying its every side. It was clear of any marks or marrings. Draco placed the apple in the center of the empty cabinet, inhaling deeply as he slowly shut the front of the cabinet door. 

“Harmonia Nectere Passus.” Draco muttered quietly. “Harmonia Nectere Passus.” He repeated a bit louder, more force and volume placed behind his voice as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Opening his eyes again, he pulled on the iron handles, wanting to know quickly whether it had worked or not. He needed this to work. It just had to! Breathing faster, his fingers tightened around the handles as he pushed the door wider to see what was inside of the Vanishing Cabinet. He exhaled with relief, nearly shedding a tear as he noticed the green apple inside of the center of the cabinet. This time though, instead of lacking any marrings on its figure, a large, clean bite had been taken out from the side of the apple. The center of the green apple had been exposed, the juice of the apple shining a bit in front of its dark background. Draco reaching inside, picking up the green apple, his grey eyes widening as he gazed in amazement at the next step he had taken.

Pride overflowed his veins as he peered down at the shining green apple in his hand. He was up high on a pedestal that he wasn’t too keen on coming down from. He felt good about something for once in a long time. He had finally accomplished the next step. So, an inanimate object could travel through the Vanishing Cabinet without any trouble. It was able to move from one Vanishing Cabinet to its sister cabinet without any new marrings, except for the sign that told him that the spell had worked. 

Next, he would have to experiment whether or not a living creature could go through. It wouldn’t be good if someone were to travel through the Vanishing Cabinet only to be suffocated greatly by loss of oxygen within the cabinet or to be warped somewhere else because of weight differences. There were a lot of different aspects that he still had to think of when he continued to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. It would be hard work, but he was making great progress.

Deciding that enough work had been accomplished tonight, Draco snatched up the large and wide fabric cloth that would cover the cabinet from other viewers. He knew what room he was in and it was possible that other people opted to use the Room of Hidden Things for their own purposes. But, he already knew this room by heart. He had been in here for so long already, just trying everything that he could to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. His long arms swiped through the air as he threw the fabric over the towering cabinet, letting it fall in the air until it settled around the cabinet like it had previously been doing. He leaned forward, pulling the cloth at some sides to cover it up like it should. 

Snatching up the apple and pulling his wand up again, he muttered a few enchantments and spells that would keep anyone from discovering the Vanishing Cabinet. He would not let his accomplishment go to waste just because someone thought it would be fun to go snooping through the Room of Hidden Things. With one last survey of his surroundings, Draco slipped away from the Room of Requirement, letting it change back into whatever room it pleased while the iron doors faded back into the crusty, blocked walls. 

Sighing deeply, he brushed the dust off of the front of his shirt, his grey eyes peering in front of him. Just as he made a step forward, he heard the soft pattering of shoes as someone moved nearby. He froze in his steps, a stoic expression rising to his features as the figure came into view. A shock of long, curly blonde hair came into view as a pale girl skipped in front of him. 

“Draco Malfoy.” The blonde’s voice echoed as her blue eyes caught onto the other figure in her way. He stood a bit in shock at her greeting, unsure of why she was speaking to him.

“Were you using the Room of Requirement, Draco?” Her soft, innocent voice echoed a bit in the empty corridors as she halted to a stop in her skipping a few feet away from him. “I like that place. Harry set the DA up in there…of course, only until you and Umbridge shut it down.” She continued, her voice and expression unfazed.

“T-That…” Draco mustered his voice, surprised by the stutter in his voice. He never knew what to say when it came to Luna Lovegood. She was the strangest person he had ever met. And even though she was that strange, he couldn’t come up with a single insult or reprimand for her. He searched for anything to say, but found himself coming up loose. He was completely dumbfounded by her comments said in such a manner.

“It’s okay, though.” Luna smiled softly at him as she tucked her loose hair behind her ears. “I think we’ll start it up again when Harry’s feeling better.” It appeared rather that she was speaking to herself more than she was speaking to him. Luna always seemed to have that certain effect on people. Even the great Draco Malfoy was completely astounded at her strange but wise and knowledgeable comments. “You should really think about joining, Draco.”

Her blue eyes blinked up at him in a curious, but completely innocent way. He didn’t even know how to respond expect with a hesitant nod. Of course, he wouldn’t be thinking about joining the DA! Why the hell would he do that? But he couldn’t seem to say those words to the blonde as she smiled sweetly up at him. It didn’t make any sense to him whatsoever. “It was lovely to see you, Draco, but I do hope you eat more. You look rather ill.” Luna smiled sadly at him, patting his shoulder slightly before she moved past him, skipping away to wherever she was meant to be going. 

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

As Hermione made her way down the halls, she was struggling to fight back tears. Her hands tried desperately to comb through her mass of auburn curls, her insecurities reaching their most brutal level now. Who was she kidding? She wasn't a pretty girl. She wasn't desirable in anyway. Lavender was...right. Damn her stupid frizzy hair! Damn her mudblood status! Just damn everything! Hermione wanted to disappear, to get far away from the world where she was never good enough. Perhaps she could become an owl and simply fly away from Hogwarts. She could just spend the rest of her days roaming the skies without a care in the world.

But she wouldn't run away. How fair would that be? Hermione had duties here and a fight to prepare for, just like everyone else. In the end, she knew she would just pretend everything was fine and complete her tasks. Even though Harry was becoming insufferable and Ron was breaking her heart, Hermione could never leave them behind. They had been through so much together...so why were their friendships falling apart?

And why did it seem like she was the only one who cared?

Like usual, Hermione found herself in the library. Escaping through the written word always seemed to help her the most when she was feeling desperate. And one never knew when they would find something useful. Hermione scanned the shelves, running her fingers across book spines as if she could feel what they were about. With a little bundle in her arms, Hermione was soon walking to sit at one of the tables, setting them gently down. As her eyes danced over the inky pages, she tried not to think about Ron or You Know Who or Lavender or Draco Malfoy. All she needed was some time to clear her head and refill it with knowledge rather than negative thoughts.

But whenever the library grew very quiet, Hermione found that a few of her tears now stained one of the books.  
Hermione had calmed down a bit, which was a stupendous feat in her mind. The written script certainly helped with that, as the bushy haired Gryffindor considered reading her only form of escape. She could delve into her studies or run away to far off lands of fiction where no one could reach her, no one could hurt her. 

So, what if Lavender had a thing for Ronald? It wasn’t like they were a couple or…or anything else. And it wasn’t like Hermione cared! Ron had just allowed her to be insulted like that. Why would she care about a boy like that? And what did it matter that Harry wasn’t sharing his feelings with her, wasn’t opening up like friends were supposed to? Just because they had been like brother and sister for years now didn’t mean he had any obligation to confide in her. Hermione grumbled something unintelligible as her eyes scanned pages of books she had read a dozen times before.

Her emotions were starting to turn. Of course anger came first, where she cursed Ron and Harry for turning their backs on her. Following closely behind, she thought up the worst possible hexes for Draco Malfoy and all of those Slytherins that mocked her heritage. Lastly, she wanted to scream the Dark Lord’s name aloud, challenge him to a duel right then and there. And then Hermione sobered once more. Everything she felt just turned into an odd sort of melancholy that weighed heavily on her chest. It was painful, but Hermione could bare it as long as she ignored everything that was wrong with her life.

It was time to get down to business. Hermione knew that. She knew that she couldn’t just sit there and wallow in self-pity, even though she felt like hiding from the world. Good thing she finally found what she had been looking for, the motivation she needed. And such motivation just so happened to come from a muggle writer, a poet who gave her all the courage she needed. There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. 

The young witch stood up from her table, taking deep breaths to put herself together again. This was pathetic. She had things to do and those things were more important than emotions would ever be. No wonder I never got sorted into Ravenclaw. I’m too much of an emotional wreck to think reasonably!

She soon found herself walking the halls with a small armful of books. Of course, Hermione still looked a little sad, a little empty, but she kept herself together and pulled her shoulders back. All the while, she took deep breaths, letting the thumping of her heartbeat keep herself calmed. No way would she rejoin Ron and Lavender in the Great Hall, only to be ridiculed and made a fool of while they so easily toyed with her heart. Nor would Hermione find herself in the Gryffindor Common Room, where Harry had claimed he was going. If he didn’t want to talk to her, fine. 

But Hermione had another destination, something that she marked top of her priorities. Draco Malfoy. Her collarbone ached just at the thought of his name and Hermione wondered if that was how Harry’s scar felt when You Know Who was near. She knew she would have bruises there and on her back, could already feel them starting to form. That twat scared her beyond speech! Hermione was still a little shocked by the events, though she had replayed them over and over in her mind to make sense of them. She had to find out where he had gone, had to discover the meaning behind his threat. 

Hermione wasn’t sure where she should start. It wasn’t like Harry had given her any good things to go off of. Her only start was his suspicions and outlandish accusations. If only he had known of some secret hideout or rendezvous place of Draco Malfoy’s. But, no. It seemed the brains of the trio would have to figure everything out for herself. Wasn’t that unusual? With a sigh, she wondered through the hallways and towards the Slytherin Common Room. She was just looking around the hallways near it, trying to be as discreet as possibly as her eyes searched for a head of platinum blonde hair. Unfortunately, there was no sign of him. How exactly was Hermione supposed to follow him and find out what he was up to if she had no idea where he was right now?

She backtracked then, wondering aimlessly through halls as she tried to think of some sort of locator spell. Maybe if she found Crabbe or Goyle she could trick them into giving her some sort of information… Just as she was beginning to form a new plan, she bumped into a fellow Gryffindor in the hallway. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Came Hermione’s immediate polite reaction, and then she realized whom it was. “Oh, Neville… Where were you earlier? You weren’t in the Great Hall…” She trailed off, waiting for the dark haired boy to fill in the details of his whereabouts. Had he just decided to skip out? That was completely unlike him…

“Hullo, Hermione.” Neville gave a small smile, though he still seemed a little awkward and timid. Hermione found it quite endearing, really. He looked around a moment before saying, “I was just practicing some stuff… Has Harry said anything, Hermione? About…Getting everyone together again?” Hermione could see the anxiety in his eyes.

It wasn’t the first time someone had asked her about Dumbledore’s Army. Ever since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, their little army had disbanded a bit. Of course many were still eager to regroup and Hermione was, too. They needed to stand together now more than ever, but… 

“I’m sure he’s eager to get to training again, Neville. I’ll talk to him about it. Promise.” As the two of them parted ways, Hermione’s chest felt a little heavier now. It was the opposite of just what she needed, a reminder of what was to come. 

But Hermione couldn’t let herself get too distracted with that at the moment. No, she had to dedicate all of her energy and focus into this little search of hers. It was time to discover what Draco Malfoy was really hiding…and hopefully put the Chosen One’s concerns to rest.

Hermione wished she could have given Neville a good, true answer. To be honest, she wasn’t sure about Dumbledore’s Army anymore. Of course it was necessary and she wanted everything to get back to how it was…But could it? Hermione knew she needed to hang on to the hope that it could. Someway, somehow they had to get Harry’s spirits lifted once more. They had to get their leader back and prove to him that they would be loyal to him no matter what had happened at the Department of Mysteries. She knew her peers needed the DA. Look at all the good it had done for dear Neville! They couldn’t just turn their back on all of that, on the hope of winning this fight.

Though she hated to admit it after all that had been happening recently, Hermione wanted her friends by her side now. They really had been through everything together and having them around had become habit ever since her first year at Hogwarts. It was that year that Hermione learned how important it was to keep good company, to find people who would love and appreciate you and you could do the same for them in return. Now, she seemed to question her choices some…But deep down Hermione knew she wouldn’t trade them for anything, though she couldn’t dare tell the boys that for fear of their egos. Boys were just so annoying, weren’t they? Especially a certain clueless ginger that let other girls insult the people he called his friends—   
And that was a thought she didn’t want to have right now.

Anyhow, it would have been nice to have them now, to be able to tell Harry all about what had happened with Draco Malfoy, to roll her eyes at Ron’s lame little side comments. It was strange how the simple things were hard to live without, like just the feeling of having someone close by who would be there for you no matter what. Hermione desperately needed that now. What if Malfoy found out what she was up to? She hadn’t thought he would ever take things as far as he did in the hallway and now…

Hermione had to admit she was a bit afraid of that ninny. She couldn’t forget how cold and menacing those gray eyes were, how roughly he had shoved her into the stone of the castle, and without remorse. She shuddered as the scene played out in her head once more. Hermione would just have to make sure nothing like that could happen again. She would have to make sure Draco Malfoy never again got the upper hand on her.

Now, if only she could find him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thanks for reading! Please review!


	5. Implications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little aggressive run-in the corridors, clearing some answers up and adding only more questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): And hellooooooo! Thank you whoever is reading this and for the few reviews I have gotten. I appreciate them, really. If you even have a single thought about this story, please, please just tell me. I really want to know what people think about this. So, yeah, review and vote for this! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not and will not ever own Harry Potter because that is the property of J.K. Rowling.

His interaction with Luna Lovegood had left him even more confused than he had ever been. His features were contorted slightly as he screwed his lips slightly. Her wistful words made him ponder of whether it was even a slightly good idea to join the DA. If he did do that, he would certainly have a good source of intel that he could report back to the Order. Obviously, no one expected him to be good friends with the famous Harry Potter.

The two weren't even on good terms, so it was thankfully not an order of his to get information from the annoying prat. There always seem to be a reason that he would get riled up after a conversation with Potter. The bespeckled, unruly dark haired boy granted himself a sneer on his lips as he padded down the corridor that he had originally been attempting to sneak away to. 

He never really would admit it out loud, but Harry Potter was actually someone that he really envied. The Chosen One had all the things that he wanted. He had a family that cared, friends that treated him like he was a human, and admirers everywhere. Of course, the bloke had experienced loss and hate at nearly every corner of his life. He wasn't too keen on thinking even that he might be sympathizing with him just a little bit. He just didn't like the mere thought that Draco Malfoy had a thought about the bloke that wasn't negative. Because what he had thought really was true. 

He would give anything to have a family that didn't think he was a nuisance and a waste of space. He didn't want to be someone that could be used and cast aside or broken beyond repair whenever they pleased. He didn't want to be the sleazebag that most hated. He didn't want to be hated, maybe feared, yes. But, he saw what real fear was. And, he never wanted anyone to be fearful of him after seeing those effects. That was just something he wouldn't be able to live with if he discovered it among the people around him. He didn't want to be the feared Slytherin Prince anymore.

But there just were things about him that even he couldn't change. He had always been a very opinionated guy. He never liked to share, and was rude to people if they didn't agree with him. He was the typical pureblood son of the aristocratic Malfoy family who brushed up his manners for the public, but he really just wanted to be like the normal kids who got to play around with Exploding Snap, instead of attending lavish parties in the family ballroom. He didn't want to be dressed in stiff suits, even if that was his attire now. Was it so wrong to ask for something normal? Even if, perhaps it would be something like the great Harry Potter's life? And right now, Potter's life seemed much better than his. 

This is Potter you're talking about! A voice in his head chided at him in a reprimanding tone. No good Potter...he rejected your hand of friendship. Draco recalled the memory of his first day at Hogwarts when he met the legendary survivor that he had actually admired. But, Weasel had already come along and snatched the prize. And the only other position left that he could take was the villainous nemesis of the scarred boy. 

The role had especially become dictated by Draco since all of those incredibly humiliating events throughout all of his school days always had some connection back to Potter. Everything was that bloke's fault. The Dark Lord wouldn't even have had come back if it weren't for Potter. "No..." Draco muttered under his breath, a scowl settling across of his lips. He couldn't blame Potter entirely. He really just needed someone to blame right now.

But who was it his disposal except for himself? Was he to blame for everything that had happened in his life?

Hermione was considering giving up her search and retiring to her dormitories. She had looked everywhere it seemed, and it was getting later now. To be honest, she wasn't even sure what goal she had in mind. Did she simply plan to find him and follow him? But, why? Was she starting to believe what Harry said about Draco being a follower of the Dark Lord? Certainly not! That sounded ridiculous, even as she thought it to herself now. But Hermione couldn't ignore that she had seen...something. Draco was having some sort of breakdown in that corridor, she was certain of it. And then, the way he turned on her... Something was definitely up, though she wouldn't go so far as to say he bared the Dark Mark.

But then what could it be?

Just as she was about to turn around and give in, return to her room and try to get lost in her books, she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A blonde shape was moving nearby. Hermione turned in that direction, wondering if she had finally spotted him. There were other students in that direction, but none were the one she sought. Hermione let out a long sigh. It seemed she could no longer distract herself with this wild goose chase and negative thoughts were starting to creep into her mind again. Shaking her head and attempting to shake them away, Hermione turned the corner, entering a different darkened hall without paying attention.

And in the most unfortunate series of circumstances, Hermione found herself tripping over her own robes and falling into someone with just as bad of luck as she had. "I'm so sorry!" And it was only when she attempted to straighten herself again and looked up at his pale gray eyes that she realized she had found who she was looking for.

_Bloody Hell..._

He passed by a couple of Hufflepuffs as they buzzed around with their own chatter and gossip. Kindness? He doubted it. He found that most Hufflepuffs were actually very large gossip centers. They tended to spread most of the rumors about other students, aside from Slytherin, of course. It didn't really count, though. Everyone knew of how Slytherin worked and the dirty games they played alongside of it all. There wasn't anything wrong with how they maintained themselves, or so that was they thought. 

Everyone else envied the Slytherins for being able to get away with most of the things that they did. Especially since they also had Snape on their side that seemed to bite at anyone who wasn't in Slytherin. It was completely unfair to others, but he never had been one to admit and care for the biased treatment from the old Potions teacher.

The sound of their chatter soon drifted away from his ears, leaving him alone with the quiet murmurings of the portraits that hung across the walls of the castle. He could see the painted figures moving in their own portraits, some smiling up at him while he walked by and others seemingly drawing back into their original positions. There was that expression of fear or suspicion on their faces that Draco dreaded to see on someone's face when they saw him.  
He abruptly came to a stop in the middle of the corridor, finally being hit with the epiphany that explained his little dilemma. The whole reason that he was anxious of seeing someone struck by fear when they saw him was because...because he had made Hermione Granger fear him. The girl who punched him in their third year and broke his nose was fearful of him. No one knew how wrong that felt.

It wasn't supposed to be that way. She was supposed to be the strong, brave Gryffindor who feared absolutely nothing. How else...how else would she, Potter, and Weasley defeat the Dark Lord? If she feared little Draco Malfoy, how would she ever face the Dark Lord or Bellatrix or any of the other dangerous Death Eaters? He knew what this all was now. He was dependent on the smartest witch of their generation to come through and fix this whole mess that had been created by the Dark Lord. He wanted Potter to make sure it was safe for everyone to live freely again. But, how could he have these expectations for them? 

He grew frustrated with the thoughts, turning into the next corridor when a figure crashed into him, making him stumble back a bit. Draco's hands caught onto the person's shoulders for support, dragging their body against his as he attempted to balance himself. His grey eyes widened in shock, showing a hint of vulnerability as he finally recognized the person behind that mane of hair. "Granger...?" His voice lacked its usual animosity, his genuine surprise clouding his judgment. "Are you following me now?" Draco tried to cover up his stumble, but found that his usual pompous voice had not come up.

Hermione tensed, trying to straighten up as gracefully as possible. Of course she wouldn't want Draco Malfoy, or anyone for that matter, to see her behaving awkwardly and clumsily. That was yet another pride thing, which seemed to be what many of her idiosyncrasies were about. Presently, her surprise was clouded over by confusion when she heard Draco's voice. Where was his sneer, his cruel eyes, his harsh voice? Hermione blinked in surprise, clearing her throat in attempt to recover. She was about to mutter a quick apology and duck away before he returned to his usual hateful self, but his next question made the blood in her veins run cold. Surely Hermione looked startled by the accusation for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights or a suspected murderer caught with an axe. 

He could see it happening already. That fearful look in her eyes that he had seen earlier would return as soon as she looked at his face. He was almost a bit afraid to confront his own fear and face her. He knew what he had done to her earlier, and realized that his teasing and childish insulting of her had gone a bit too far as soon as his hands had clutched onto the fabric of her clothing. It wasn't right and he knew that what he felt he had to do was apologize in some way. But, he didn't do that. He would never do that. He just couldn't apologize to Granger. As much guilt he felt over it, he would never let himself stoop that low. He may not trust the ideals that had been instilled in him earlier on his life about the difference between purebloods and other witches and wizards pertaining to the use of their magic. But, that didn't change everything about him. She was still a muggleborn and he was still a pureblood.

"No." She said immediately. At least Hermione had gotten better at lying due to her time spent with Ron and Harry. She plastered a look of amused disbelief on her face. "No, what interest would I have in seeing what you do in your spare time?" She said in a way that made it seem like she assumed all he did was snog girls like Pansy Parkinson and torture first years when they least expected it. After all, that had proved to be true in their previous years at Hogwarts together. Hermione took another step back from him, not liking how close her tumble had put them. She struggled to maintain the hating eyes she normally would have appraised him with, considering that he didn't seem like himself. 

That made things automatically different in his eyes. She grew up around Muggles, those people he knew were less superior to him. They were even less superior to her! He knew that she was not filthy though. How could she be? If she were to cut herself right now and show him her blood, it would not be a brown color. It would not be the color of mud as he imagined whenever he had been told by his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, that muggleborns were mudbloods. He imagined that a muggleborn was a monster of sort-a muggle that had stolen a witch or wizard's magic and their wand. He believed that all muggles were born with mud inside of them instead of blood. Now that he thought about it more clearly, he thought it sounded quite ridiculous. 

But Hermione's problem was not fear, though there was still a certain caution in her gaze. No, this wasn't a normal sort of terror that she felt because of Draco Malfoy. It was so peculiar. Hermione forced her chin up, trying to retain a confident atmosphere. "I was just going to the library." And then she realized she was going the opposite direction. "Coming." She added quickly. "Coming from the library, I mean. But that's none of your business." It didn't seem so unusual that she would be there, considering that was where she spent the majority of her time. If only she was a little smoother with her dishonesty. There was a reason Hermione was not put into Slytherin. She was, deep down, the same goody two shoes she had always been. 

Draco let go of her arms, his eyes suspiciously scrutinizing her under his judgmental gaze. He knew that something was different here, but knew that he couldn't have possibly been followed by her. If he had, he was sure that Luna would have spotted her too. But then again, friends didn't give away friends, even when they were lying. "You know what I think?" He prompted her with a question. He thought that she was lying to him right now. Whether it was about following him or coming from the library, he knew that she was lying. 

She was a futile liar anyway. Anyone could see it clear as day on her face that she had been lying. Maybe if it came to more serious matters, she would be able to get away with lying. But, he had caught on to her. "I think you are exactly interested in the activities I do in my spare time." He informed her. He caught onto what she was implying, but decided that he would give her his own little meaning. This way, at least, he could figure out if she knew anything about his true after class activities while he rendezvous in the Room of Requirement.

"Excuse me? What are you implying?" Hermione demanded in disbelief, actually managing to sound offended. That was her first reaction, due to the phrasing of his words and force of habit. For the moment, Hermione seemed to have forgotten all about her little lie in her attempt to protect her own dignity. She didn't care what Draco Malfoy was up to! She didn't care about him. Period. Despite the fact that she was trying to stalk him, that is. But Hermione hadn't really been planning to follow him around all the time. She had just wanted to see where he had gone off to, so that she could make sure it wasn't anything suspicious. And then she could tell Harry there was nothing else to add on to his already piled up stack of worries. 

He might have been able to admit that the expression that crossed her face as soon as he responded back to her was quite authentic. She was struck by disbelief, probably unable to comprehend what he had just said to her. He felt mirthful on the inside at seeing that specific expression on her face. It was a rare sight to see Hermione Granger, brightest witch of their century, so confused. She looked as if she were battling internally with herself about what he had told her. 

He attempted to ponder over which implement she had thought of first. Did she think that he knew that she had been sneaking around him to figure out whether he was snogging a certain Slytherin or that he was onto her? He knew that she had been around him much more lately, and it seemed ultimately too confusing to him. He felt uncomfortable that she had been around that much anyway. It wasn't like she really knew anything, right? "Well, I know that Potter likes to stick his nose everywhere that it doesn't belong, so why wouldn't little Granger be the same?" Draco prompted with a hint of a smirk growing on his lips. 

"Harry doesn't-" Hermione began to protest before she found herself struggling with the right words to defend him. It was actually an accurate statement, considering that Harry was indeed planning on following Draco around. But of course she wouldn't tell him any of that... Honestly, she was doing her best not to tell him a few other choice words. 

She noticed how he had resumed his usual demeanor, the one that she had despised during all their years at Hogwarts together. Hermione did not like him having so much control over the conversation, over her. Standing right in front of her was the same boy who had tormented her for years, who had hurt her friends and ridiculed her for not being a pureblood. It didn't matter what she had seen in the corridor or what he had done afterwards. Hermione hated him... She would never be able to forgive herself if she felt sorry for Draco Malfoy.

Brushing a strand of curly hair behind her ear, Hermione desperately tried to maintain her composure. She stood up a little straighter, putting her nose in the air to show him that he had no power over her. They were all the textbook ways to avoid bullies, right? But, Draco was not your average grade school tormentor. No, he was a cruel, demented, egotistical pureblood who didn't know a thing about boundaries. Hermione couldn't let herself be afraid of him. As she met his eyes, she wondered if her own inner turmoil was reflected back to him. God, she hoped not. That was all she needed, to give him another reason to ridicule her. 

The two of them were standing out in the open of the corridor, surrounding by empty walls and a long walkway. It wouldn't take long for anyone to walk in on them, unlike their earlier predicament where he had crashed into her while in a usually empty corridor. That had been his intention earlier. Now, he had just been trying to get back to his common room after spending the day away in the Room of Requirement. So, he felt that it was just bad luck that he had run into Granger again specifically in an area where anyone could eavesdrop on their conversation. He would have to be extra careful with his implications. It was one thing to tell Granger something that made her mind spin and a complete other to tell the portraits of the walls and the entire study body of his implications. He was sure he would have been arrested and put into Azkaban on the spot if he even tried that.

But again, this fear Hermione felt was a strange type and she began to realize that it was not the coldness in his eyes that had scared her, nor the lack of human emotion. No, the thing that frightened her most was how he had been before he noticed her watching, how he had thrown his robes at the wall and how his eyes had seemed torn. Maybe that was because the most frightening thing a person could do was lose control. "Why shouldn't I believe you were the one following me, hmm? It seems rather odd that you were in the right place at the right time..." It was a good thing Hermione was a quick thinker, for she had managed to find a logical reason to turn the attention back to Malfoy. This was the way it had to be, lest her lie crumble before her eyes.

Being around Granger was different. She didn't make him nervous or anxious about being found out. Of course, he had his natural suspicions that she knew of his earlier whereabouts and about his actual after school activities. But that hadn't stopped him from being himself around her. Or the self that she knew and absolutely treasured. He couldn't allow anyone to see a different side to him. It was vital especially after his episode this morning. He knew that he would be put into hot waters if someone really had looked into what had happened with him. He was always in control and this morning, he had not been whatsoever. He had lost it and it completely messed him up. He couldn't have people noticing things now. "And why would you think that someone like me would be the slightest bit interested in the life of someone like you?" Draco drawled, looking down at her pathetic resolve.

And most of all, she couldn't let herself fear him. Hermione had grown too strong to be brought down by someone like him. But she was starting to realize that the fear she had felt in that darkened hallway was no like the fear she had for the Dark Lord. No, it was more like how she felt when she got separated from Ron or Harry, or when one of them was doing something particularly dangerous. It was almost like Hermione was afraid for him. But, that couldn't possibly be! She wouldn't allow it! 

"Someone like you? And by that do you mean a demented twat who can't keep his mouth closed?" She fired back, some of her fear fading away as they resumed their normal conversation habits; Draco insulting her, her trying to maintain her dignity and call him out on things that he didn't care about, like morals and manners. 

The bushy haired Gryffindor narrowed her eyes at the boy in front of her, trying to read something from his facial expression that would tell her what he was hiding. "Maybe because you know that I know something that you don't want me to know..." It sounded far less confusing in her head, but Hermione knew he had some sort of secret, though she still didn't think that secret was working for You Know Who. Perhaps, he had been with the unavailable Pansy Parkinson. Or perhaps, he had been having private lessons with Professor Snape. Or perhaps, he just had some weird hobby he didn't want anyone finding out about.   
Hermione dared to take a step closer to him, pointing an accusing finger in his direction as she looked at him through fierce, slitted eyes. "The only logical explanation for you following me is wanting to find out if I know your secret. You're up to something, Malfoy. I know it." She pressed.

His eyes scrutinized hers deeply as he watched the emotions flicker across of her face. He didn't really want to continue this conversation. He had really had enough of Granger for the entire day. And as amusing as she could be when she got angry, he did have a limit. He didn't want to be constantly reprimanded about manners and whatnot, severely scolded about Pothead and Weasel. It was everything that consisted of the whole of Hermione Granger. She had really found a way under his skin and now, she was only getting comfortable. 

He knew that she had taken the upper hand, searching around for the clues that she clearly knew were there. She wanted to know every bloody thing and all it that would happen would be that it would backfire on her. He knew that if she ever got close enough to finding the truth, he would have to take long measures to cover his tracks. No matter what that meant happened to Granger.

She was a nuisance, though. He didn't mind if the muggleborn was taken from the world, right? He hated her and she hated him. It was a mutual relationship. Really, the only reason he even had any ill feelings for her were because of the fact that she had befriended Potter and Weasley. He despised those two deeply for the humiliation he felt that first day that he had exposed his hand to Potter as a stretch for friendship. 

And every day since that one, the Golden Trio had been his nemesis. He hated seeing them and wanted to do anything to make them feel the humiliation that he had felt. He felt that they deserved it. See, he didn't even hate Granger for the fact that she was a muggleborn. It was an envious fact to him that she always got top marks, something he strived for. Draco would always come in second because of her. And that was what made him curse her existence as well.

His dark eyes were narrowed in her direction as she spat back her reply. She was getting bolder and bolder as they conversed, finding that she had it in her to put him in his place. But, he didn't want to be put into whatever position she thought he should be in. He knew that she had probably made several assumptions about him in the past, like being the supposed Heir of Slytherin that had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Was it possible that she had thought that he had become a Death Eater? He needed to know. Would it give himself away if he found a way to get her to reveal her thoughts on him? 

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that I wasn't following you." Draco remarked, his eyebrows rising on his forehead as she pointed her finger at him with a fierce glower on her face. "I'm not up to anything...but I'm curious. What would you think I've been doing? Why?" He asked her, stepping forward a foot as he searched her face for any idea that compromised his position. Perhaps, he could use Legilimency to see through her memories? She wouldn't be able to fight it back, but would know that he had been through her mind. He didn't know if he had time to even attempt it.

"Oh, really? Nothing at all?" Hermione asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, as Draco stepped closer to her, she couldn't help but shrink a bit, stumbling back a foot before she had regained her composure. She couldn't let him get to her! "I-why should I tell you my suspicions when I'm sure you would deny them immediately?" She retorted quickly, though in truth, Hermione didn't have a clue what he was up to. 

She knew something had to be going on, but unless Harry's insane theory was right, she had next to nothing to work off of. Hermione wouldn't let Draco know that she was clueless, though. She kept her head high and her eyes guarded, though it took some self control not to let her emotions shine through her. It seemed Hermione was having more and more problems with that lately. 

For which, she blamed Ronald.

But Hermione would explain her reasoning to Draco. Mainly because she wanted to frighten him, she wanted to see how he reacted. If his demeanor changed just slightly, she would know for sure that he was up to something. And besides, she wanted to prove to him that she was intelligent and not fooled by his little games. Hermione didn't want to give him another reason to think of her as inferior. 

"I saw you, Draco, in the hall. Something was bothering you, wasn't it?" She demanded, almost a little hesitant as she said it. In fact, for a brief moment, it was almost like Hermione was trying to ask a friend what was wrong rather than confront a nemesis about suspicious activity. But that was gone in a flash, and left without her even noticing it. A second later, her eyes shone nothing but fire and disdain for the boy in front of her.

"I know you're the one who broke Harry's nose, Malfoy." She added in, the thought just occurring to her as she started connecting the most confusing puzzle pieces. Now, if only there weren't so many missing. "Why? Did you think he knew something? Surely, he didn't just get on your nerves! Were you worried? Trying to send a message?" 

It felt good to be honest, almost as good as the time when she had hit him during their third year. Hermione rarely got the chance to really stand up to him. It was a nice change, being the one who was confident and in control for once, rather than the one who felt like dying on the inside because of the cruel names he called her. Hermione wasn't going to cower right now, because she knew she had the advantage for once. The more she talked to him, the more sure she was that she was on to something. There was a reason Hermione was considered the brightest witch of their age.

His eyebrows stood up as the witch continued, obviously getting riled up about this all. If he knew that keeping her in the dark about some matters would rile up her feathers so much, he would have done it a long time ago. He could see that she was slowly losing focus of everything and her composure was slipping more rapidly. If things continued like this between them, he was sure that he would have her stumbling around, babbling off nonsensical things.

It would be an amusing sight to see in the least, he had to admit. He actually wanted to see it now. Her sarcasm was relentless and he could see the familiar guards all rise up as his presence seem to daunt her. Before, he may have smirked and been proud of it. But now, all he could think of was that fear.   
Fear was his worst enemy.

Now, he was just desperate to figure out the truth. Things could go badly if Granger knew what he was up to. He knew that some of his actions throughout the year were being spectated over as they were pretty suspicious, but he hadn't thought about the consequences of it all. He could just imagine the disappointed expression on Snape and his parents' faces as they heard the news. Of course, someone would find out eventually and inform Dumbledore of his alliances. They were forced alliances, however, he reminded himself. Who was he kidding though? When this was all over, he knew that the more likely winner would be the Dark Lord. He had the army, the strength, and the fear he needed to make an empire. Now, he was taking over London. How long would it be before he began to expand, killing off muggles everywhere?

Panic filled him completely as it seemed that Granger had it all figured out. Of course, she hadn't said exactly what he was, but he knew what her insinuations were implying. She was asking in her own way whether or not he was a Death Eater. What now? He couldn't give himself away. Thankfully, he had perfected the art of concealing emotions very well. He had lost his angle in their conversation. The control had been snatched away from him and dropped straight into the hands of his enemy. Granger wasn't his enemy though. He disliked her greatly, but his enemy was someone he had to work for. It was a very big difference.

"What does it matter to you, Granger?" He started slowly, his grey eyes puncturing her. "Perhaps, I just felt like not having the so great Chosen One at Hogwarts this year. I'm trying a new method." Draco sneered down at her. "You've experienced first hand, have you not?" He questioned, his hand reaching forward to her collar where the fabric of her clothing covered her neck and collar bone. "Bruises, hmm..." He murmured thoughtfully, appearing complacent about it.

Hermione's eyes went a little wider when Draco reached out to her collarbone. With one sharp intake of breath later, she was pushing him away. "Don't touch me." She said fiercely, though rather than moving away from him, she leaned closer to match his stare.

"A new method? Is that really what you call it?" She scoffed in disbelief. And to think that for one moment, Hermione had been ready to pity this fowl creature! He was the wickedest person she had ever met. Yes, Voldemort was terrifying, but he seemed like some sort of faraway threat on most days. Draco, on the other hand, was always just around the corner waiting to make her and her friends' lives a living Hell. 

His hand was immediately drawn back as he felt a harsh shove pushing his body away. He knew how he would usually react to such a movement. Someone had pushed the purist of the Slytherins, and then they were going to get much worse. He probably would have shoved the person back, knocking them to the ground and pulling his wand out at them. 

He wasn't some muggle so he wouldn't use his fists to injure someone. Why bother doing such things to hurt someone when it would only hurt himself? He knew if he punched someone or something, he would only hurt his knuckles as well. It was why using magic was the better option. But, the stereotypical reaction did not occur as his dark gaze pierced the witch's.

She was angry, spitting her words out at him. But he was hardly listening. It wasn't anything compared to the harsh reprimanding he would listen to while receiving a punishment behind another wand's end. That was what real bullying was at a much exaggerated level.

"Is it fun for you? Honestly, you act as if you make a hobby of torturing others." Hermione spat out the words, shaking her head in disdain as she took a step back. 

His shoulders straightened as he sharply stared down at her. The placated Gryffindor was no longer calm. She was taking out all her anger on him, asking him questions that she begged to discover the answers to probably for a long time. He didn't answer her, finding silence being his only ally in all of this conflict. If he had been asked a long time ago, perhaps in his first or second year, of what he thought of Granger, the muggleborn that beat him in nearly everything, his answer would have truly been negative. 

He hated her for besting him. Envied her, even. If someone were to ask him about her now, he may give a similar response just for cover's sake, but his internal answer would be much more different and complex. He didn't per say hate her, but more that he wished her to not be there. He couldn't have her around because her influence was changing his mind. And that was very dangerous to him. Draco feared that she would unravel him with her questions and prodding and he couldn't have that happen for his own and his family's sake.

Perhaps, it was the way that Draco managed to see through people that made Hermione hate him so much. Yes, she wasn't a fan of how he picked on others or made a mockery of her best mates, but the worst part of Malfoy was how he could see all her insecurities. Because deep down, Hermione had many of them, stemming from her fear of failure. Though she desperately tried to hide them, all her attempts seemed futile when this Slytherin boy was around. He brought it all out into the open and made her face things she didn't want to. And now all of those insecurities seemed maximized, due to what was happening with Harry and Ron.

But no matter what, she would not allow herself to weaken under Draco's torment. She stood tall and fierce now, having forgotten all about the fear she had experienced in the corridor earlier. Though, when he brought it up again, Hermione heard a little voice in the back of her mind that wanted her to realize the truth. She was not afraid of him. No, Hermione feared for Draco Malfoy for that split second. But now she shook those thoughts away. 

"Don't think you can get away with that again, Draco. If you try to lay a hand on anyone, you can be sure that I'll cut it off." She threatened. Hermione could be terrifying at times, because she truly was a powerful witch. "And you can't fool me. I know there's something up with you and I will find out what it is." Because Hermione had to see things done herself. She needed logical proof before she would believe anything that Harry said about Draco being a...you know.  
That was his sole reason for doing what he did. Becoming who he was only had one main purpose. And that was to keep his family safe and intact. To save their lives and his own. To make sure that they all had a better future. If the Dark Lord were to win this war, there would be no future for all the muggleborns and most half bloods. 

Anyone that opposed the Dark Lord would surely be void of much of a future. But he, and his family, would have a future. They would be better off than others. But even then, it would be torture. What would happen if the Light side were to win, though? All of his work would go to waste. 

"Good luck with that, Granger. Because I can guarantee you that when you do find out, it won't matter anymore." He muttered to her darkly, stepping away from her.

Draco's words seemed to chill the fire in her eyes. She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, trying to find anything in his expression that would help her decipher his threats. Was he simply vowing to harm her if she found out his secret? That wouldn't have seemed so odd, considering it was obviously something he didn't want anyone to know. The peculiar thing was that Draco had pretty much admitted he was up to something, had even acknowledged that Hermione was going to discover what it was. After all, Malfoy had said when, not if. But it had to be deeper than some petty threat; Hermione could see that much in his dark eyes. Why wouldn't the secret matter if she discovered it? Did that mean it was a small one or something much, much larger? It seemed Draco's cryptic warnings did nothing more than further her curiosity, though they should have scared her off. 

Perhaps he had said far much more than he probably should have. His message had after all been a clear method of proving exactly what one would think when they associated himself with the Dark Lord. It really was far from the time that Bellatrix had arranged for the attack to be set. He really was just searching for ways to have it happen earlier. Not the attack, per say. But rather, the death of everyone's beloved, crazy, old Headmaster, Dumbledore. There had to be others ways for him to be successful in the Headmaster's death without letting in chaos at Hogwarts and having dozens of innocent children suffer at the hands of Death Eaters. If there was anything he really wished to avoid, it was that he didn't want the Death Eaters to have access to Hogwarts. 

Hogwarts was his real home. When he didn't want to be at Malfoy Manor, he was happy to be at the school for witches and wizards. This place changed and altered him. He never would be the way he was now if it hadn't been for Hogwarts. Things changed his perspective of things. Like for instance, how monstrous could a muggleborn be if that muggleborn was a bushy haired, big toothed, little first year girl? 

Yes, she had definitely been a bit funny looking, but she was far from a monster. She was very annoying, actually, but not a monster. And he knew that a monster could not be what was standing in front of him now. He wanted his father to come here this instant and explain to him why his views were all suddenly getting muddled. But, of course, he couldn't because Lucius Malfoy was stuck in Azkaban as punishment for the attack at the Department of Mysteries. 

She studied him a moment more, calming significantly before she took a step closer to him, the distance that he had created ago between the two of them vanishing now. Hermione kept a straight face as she met his eyes. Her voice was quiet, but steady and strong, when she spoke. And Hermione's words were simple, but very effective. 

She simply stated, "You don't scare me, Draco. I am not afraid." And there was no anger behind her eyes, nor was there disdain or hatred. There was only that calm sort of courage, that silent determination that always seemed to get Hermione through everything. She stayed nose to nose with Draco for a moment longer before she turned on her heel and left started away from him.

"I'm not who you should fear, Granger!" His voice rumbled in his throat, coming out a bit strangled and frightened. It was all unintentional, but it had been revealed nonetheless. And he couldn't take it back now. He kept a straight face as he watched the muggleborn speed down the hall in her personalized set of anger.

Hermione was determined to find out what was going on, no matter what Draco said. Whatever he was hiding was obviously important if the consequences of discovering it were so severe. His threats were a challenge to her, and Hermione couldn't let herself back down. She couldn't handle not knowing something, so she would have to look until she found her answers. And Hermione would find them. There had never been a problem she couldn't solve, a riddle she couldn't finish as long as she had her books and her brains. Besides, it seemed this quest would prove as a nice distraction from everything else.

And when it came to Draco Malfoy, you could never be sure what you would get. Hermione knew that anything he was up to would spell trouble in the long run if no one stopped it.

Draco wasn't going to let himself stay behind and watch the madness that he had let happen expose himself. He could see from what had already happened today that the suspicions that he had become a Death Eater would find the ears of the teachers of Hogwarts. He knew that Granger would tell Potter who would no doubt tell the Headmaster himself. 

And that would be the end of his life at Hogwarts. Once Dumbledore discovered his alliances, he would no longer have the safety and protection of the magical walls of Hogwarts. He would be left alone, bare, in the hands of the numerous Death Eaters siding with the Dark Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the fifth chapter! I'm still in the process of writing the other chapters and I'm having a bit of Writer's Block right now, or rather laziness with writing. So, chapters will still be coming up at an abnormal rate. Thank you for reading though and tell me your thoughts!


	6. Plummet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little game on the Quidditch Pitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Hey...yeah, thanks for reading whoever it is. Well, this story is almost to one thousand reads, so maybe if you guys want to be kind to me, leave me a review as to how the story is going so far. Thanks, that would mean a lot.

Ginny met his eyes after she spoke of Ronald and imaginative tales of kissing where no one could see. Her eyes didn’t give away much, but rather asked all the questions. She studied his reaction to the statement for a brief second, trying to decipher his feelings for her. Ginny knew there was something going on between them, and it wasn’t just like last time when their little relationship was one-sided. Back then, the young Weasley girl had known Harry Potter was far out of reach. But now, he was right beside her, close enough to feel the heat coming off his body. Ginny wasn’t a little girl anymore, which was certain. So what was stopping them?

Besides, of course, her relationship with Dean, Harry’s emotional turmoil, and the threat of impending doom…

He wasn’t quite positive as to what all of this meant. He just hoped that whatever happened would have a good result. He couldn’t bare it if he had another screw up in his life right now. He wouldn’t be able to take it. It was really only a matter of time before he fell back into his mood. It had happened before anyway. His friends had been able to distract him for a while, but at the end of the day, all thoughts went back to that deep, dark place where the only thing that he could think about was just how much he had failed everyone that he loved. How much he had failed Sirius. It was hard to move on and so he hoped that this time, when he returned from whatever distraction Ginny had come up with, he could stick with this new, lightened mood. It would actually, really help him.

He wondered if what he thought about Ginny was what was really behind all of her motivations in helping him. Maybe he was wrong and she just had wanted to comfort him because he was her friend. Sure, she had liked and admired him when they were younger. But, now that they actually knew each other, she didn’t like him like that anymore. He would understand. He would be disappointed, yes, but he would never put such a thing against her. She was the best person that he knew and admired her wholly. Never would something like that come in between their tentative friendship. Even if it did hurt to see her with someone else.

And just like that, the only female Weasley child led the Chosen One through Hogwarts’ winding corridors, actually taking a few detours to confuse him a bit. After all, the path to their destination was one he should know well by now. Ginny wanted to keep the mystery alive as long as possible, though part of her feared he would be disappointed in the location they were approaching. She would simply have to make sure he understood her decision. Finally, Ginny gave in and led him to the correct place.

They were standing in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, oddly enough. Ginny stepped away so that she could turn and face him. Harry grew tired of guessing as to where they were going, knowing that it would be impossible to try and ask her. She wasn’t going to budge. Eventually, their path led down to one that had become quite familiar to him in the past six years that he had attended Hogwarts. They had arrived at the freshly cut grass and sandy field of the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch.

“Here we are…I know, I know.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “But I thought it might lift your spirits a bit.” After all, Harry was their team captain this year, and Ginny was falling desperately in love with the game. “What do you say to a little game of our own? First one to the snitch?” By this point, she had already started walking away from him and towards the locker room to retrieve her broom, obviously not really giving him a choice in the matter.

His eyebrows rose curiously as he caught sight of her expression while they were standing in the center. He remembered that Ginny had taken his position as seeker while Umbridge had cut him from the team. It hadn’t been the best time for him, but she did turn out to be a pretty amazing seeker. “I say…you’re on.” Harry smirked slightly, following quickly after her to the locker room. His own broom had been stocked away in there. It would be nice to get out on the broom stick again.

Ginny returned his challenging smirk before going to her locker in the Gryffindor section. She could already feel the anticipation in her muscles at the thought of getting on her broom again. Oh, how Ginny loved the game! The feeling of the wind in her hair, that adrenaline rush one got in the final seconds of a match, the way she felt unstoppable when she was in the air... Quidditch was exhilarating. Ginny quickly retrieved her broom, grabbing a case of practice balls that sat on the ground nearby and dragging it out into the field once more. "Hurry up, Harry!" She called out impatiently, a smile forming on her lips. "Or I'll give myself a head start." She warned jokingly.

To be honest, Ginny had idolized Harry for more than just being the Boy Who Lived when she was younger. Since her family was so obsessed with the favorite wizard sport, Ginny was awestruck the first time she had seen Harry play. She found that she didn't just want to be his equal. No, the competitive side of her wanted to be his rival. Of course, she also wanted other things when it came to Harry. But, for now she could just settle with his smile and his embarrassment when she beat him today. 

And most importantly, Ginny wanted him to be happy. Even if it wasn't with her. Maybe that was how she knew what she felt for Harry Potter was real, because he made her selfless. Ginny bit her lip as her thoughts wandered back to what she had said earlier about snogging in hallways...and more importantly, the look he had given her afterwards. Ginny smiled slightly, opening the case and pulling out the snitch, holding it tightly in her hand as she waited for her opponent. 

He watched as the flash of red hair disappeared behind a row of lockers, moving a bit slower behind her as he located his own locker. He was the Gryffindor captain this year, and he hadn’t even thought about try-outs yet. He would have to get on that soon enough. Perhaps, he could discuss that with her after their little game. The game that he was sure to win. He was a bit elated that he had the opportunity to get back in the air again. This was a sign of normalcy. He would have to thank Ginny later for this. No one really knew how much he was desperate for even the slightest bit of normalcy in his life.

He had his stable environment copied down almost. Most everything was stable for now. Except for the fact that an evil villain was out in the world, killing people for the fun of it. And that snake was really only after him. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. No, Voldemort would not invade his thoughts, right now. Harry wouldn’t allow it. He had finally gotten himself in a somewhat near good mood and he wouldn’t let that go to waste. He had to be optimistic and the only way to do that was if he allowed himself to think that things were actually going to work out in the end. It will be okay, he promised himself.

With one last deep breath, he swung his hand inside of his locker, snatching out his broomstick. His hand immediately molded around the wooden handle like it always would. It was just so used to being wrapped around the handle like it that it was just merely instinct that it had happened. Hopping onto the side, he allowed the broom to float in the air while in the vertical position. “Are you ready to lose, Ginny?” He called out to her as the broom flew out of the locker room with Harry riding on the side of it, his foot hanging lazily off with his one arm wrapped around the handle. “Because, I’m not going to let you win.” He smirked.

“Oh, you won’t really have a choice in the matter, Potter.” Ginny countered, grinning confidently as she mounted her own broom. Unlike Harry, she was actually atop hers properly, one hand holding the handle and the other closed tightly around the Golden Snitch. It felt good to have the ball in her hand again. She remembered last year so vividly, even now. Ginny had never imagined herself as a Seeker before, but it had been so exhilarating! No wonder Harry liked it so much. Now if only Ronald could get some of his best friend’s athletic ability…

Ginny took a deep breath to ready herself, feeling excitement build up inside her. She just hoped Harry was feeling the same way she did, for that was all she desired. Quidditch always put Ginny in a good mood, so of course that was her first choice of escape for the Chosen One himself. “All right. We’ll wait three seconds after it starts flying. And then all bets are off.” 

A large grin had settled across of his lips as he fixed his position on the broomstick, preparing himself for the race of his life. Of course, this wasn’t some serious competition. But, now that Ginny had suggested it, he wanted to do nothing but win against her. He needed to feel this attempt at accomplishment. Everything was getting a bit easier. He was proud of himself and knew that it showed on his face. “Oh, we’ll see about that.” Harry smirked, shaking his head in the air as he eyed the flashing color of gold in between her fist as she held onto the Golden Snitch in the palm of her hand. He was prepared for this game, really.

Ginny gave him a sideways glance, winking at him. She kept her eyes on him as she held her hand up and released the Golden Snitch into the air. “Three!” And just like that, the sneaky Weasley daughter was zooming off.

Seating himself on top of his broom stick and placing his feet where they needed to go to get the most momentum when he began to move, he kept his eyes on the redhead as the Golden Snitch was released into the air. At her call, he raced after her, leaning forward on the broom.

The Snitch whizzed through the air, jumping from place to place at a rate that would have been impossible to watch if it wasn’t for extensive practicing. Ginny, feeling the wind blowing her red locks back, could understand the meaning of the word weightless. In her mind, this right here was the best part about being a witch—being able to fly. Ginny never felt as powerful as she did when she was on a broomstick. Presently, she hurried herself after the snitch, not glancing behind her to see if Harry Potter was keeping up. No doubt he was and just a simple look back would put him in the lead.

The wind instantly blew back at their faces as their brooms sped across the Quidditch Field, their skills matching incredibly against each other. They were practically neck to neck the entire time. Harry could see flashes of the Golden Snitch waving through the air in front of them, flapping its short, thin wings to make it move across the large expanse of the field. He pressed his lips together firmly as his eyes caught onto Ginny ahead of him barely, her red hair beating at the hair violently as she sped ahead of him. A smirk grew across of his lips as he noticed the dip of the Snitch before she did, using his arms and shoulders to gain more distance than her. Keeping his hands on the handle, he sped after the Snitch.

It didn’t matter how Ginny felt about Harry Potter. She was not going to let him win this. Forget crushes and secret glances when no one was looking, Ginny’s competitive spirit wasn’t going to let her forfeit for the sake of whatever little relationship they had. Her eyes flicked around wildly, and her body followed, moving with the Golden Snitch in the air. And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry, zooming right along beside her. It felt extremely good to know that she was keeping up with him fine, considering how praised his Quidditch skills were. They were pretty evenly matched in this competition, which was something that didn’t make her quite as happy. Ginny didn’t want to tie.

Then she saw Potter moving, and she realized she had lost the upper hand. He had caught the Snitch’s movement before she had. Ginny muttered a curse that was lost to the wind as she hurried to catch up, leaning in the way that would gain her the most speed. What a boring way to lose a Quidditch match! Finally, Ginny saw her advantage. With a little extra push, she managed to get alongside Harry once again, though not necessarily neck in neck. Ginny swerved then, knocking into him roughly, the way she would any other opponent. Of course, Ginny, in general, was not as rough as most Quidditch players. But, she took her chance and got back on the Snitch’s trail, ducking down just as it did and getting closer than Harry was. 

His hands were gripped tightly onto the handle of his broomstick, his abdomen nearly flat against the wood. He was bent forward in attempt to gain more distance in front of his competitor as they raced to catch the Golden Snitch that flitted before them at an incredible speed. Both of them were trying their best, playing at their finest to catch the small ball. A smirk crossed his lips as he had gained distance on Ginny, finding himself close to the Snitch. It was short lived, however, as he felt a harsh bump to the side, making him lose a bit of speed and having his opponent speed ahead of him. He strayed to the side a bit, losing sight of the Snitch.

Harry could see the red head zooming after the Snitch and swerved his broomstick in her direction, pressing his feet hard down on the back of the broom as the air batted at his face violently. He was so close. Just a little bit further and he would have caught up to Ginny. His hand could reach out to the back of her broomstick when he finally caught sight of the Snitch again, ahead of them. He felt a large leap in his chest as if his heart was being pushed around in his chest, cheering him on to get to the Snitch before his best mate’s sister. Smashing his broom against hers like she had done earlier to him, he beat her distance and speed, pressing forward with his hand reaching out desperately to grab the Snitch.

Ginny gasped slightly at the impact of Harry’s broom against hers. She lost control for only a second before she grinned and started off once more. Harry had been a seeker for a reason, and it was obvious. She had to admit that that was a good hit…but she still didn’t have to let him win and she didn’t plan on it. No, Ginny actually liked that he didn’t mind playing to the best of his ability with her. If it had been Dean she was practicing with, he would have simply let her win in fear of her getting upset with him. Ginny didn’t want to win due to a forfeit; she wanted to win because she deserved to. Perhaps that competitive edge stemmed from her family. Being the youngest, as a little girl her older brothers would just let her win things. And then, once she had gotten a little older and had caught onto what they were doing, she desperately wanted to prove herself. Having so many siblings made competition a thing of necessity.

He almost had the urge to look back at Ginny once he had knocked her back from her position on her broom, sending her back in the air as he surged forward. He felt so close then. He hadn’t played Quidditch really in so long. While he stayed with the Dursleys during the summer before his sixth year, he hadn’t been allowed to practice any sort of magic. Of course, one being because of the trace set on every witch and wizard until they turned the age of seventeen, considered an adult. And the other, because he was surrounded by muggles. At least the Weasleys could ride their broomsticks without being charged of breaking the rules. It was why he envied the family so much, while he adored them more. They were really his family now, he realized. They weren’t related by blood or anything, but the Weasleys had taken him in when no one else could or would. And that was why he appreciated them so much.

She could see Harry reach out, so close to grabbing the Golden Snitch. A fierce burst of energy rushed through her. Ginny couldn’t let him reach it first, and she knew she was running out of time. She surged forward, using every bit of her might to try and get ahead again. And then, when the Golden Snitch changed directions quickly and she tried to follow, Ginny turned too sharply. She hit the nearest goal post, the impact being strong enough to knock her off her broom and send her spiraling downwards.

Excitement filled him as he felt the wings of the Snitch hit his palm before darting further forward. He scowled at the ball, finding that it completely changed direction, moving in an angle that forced him to move in the opposite direction. Riding the curve out of his broom, Harry followed after the Weasley girl as she chased after the Golden Snitch. Everything changed so rapidly that he had barely had any time to comprehend what was going on. All he could see was Ginny falling. And that instantly reminded him of Sirius. He fell too. Struck by the killing spell and falling back into the veil that had eaten him up. He couldn’t let that happen to Ginny too. Adrenalin rushed through him as his broomstick sped towards the falling red head. His hand reached out for her, instead of the Snitch now, heart pounding so loudly in his chest as he felt his hand touch skin.

Ginny knew she was going to fall before it even happened, though she was powerless to stop it. She felt the air leave her lungs, her heart fall to her stomach, and suddenly her broom was no longer beneath her. Ginny screamed, though she didn’t realize the sound had even escaped her. Her mind was focused on how she was supposed to stop herself. It was a long, terrifying fall from the highest point on the Quidditch Pitch. And while most people would have merely screamed and panicked, Ginny did more than just that. This brave Gryffindor was looking around wildly for something to cling to, the only sound in her ears being her own pulse. 

And then suddenly, something touched her skin. Ginny didn’t realize it was Harry’s hand at first, but she clutched onto it anyway, her instincts kicking in. One glance upwards at his face was all she needed to bring up her other arm, though it took some effort, to grab onto his wrist. 

“Harry!” She called out, as they were still heading downwards. Ginny had no way of stopping them. No, Harry would have to do that it seemed. All Ginny could think of was how the ground was not so far anymore, and that the impact would surely break something of hers.

In truth, she had never fallen off her broom from that high up before and the thought was a little terrifying. But it seemed that fear never really set in with her. For Ginny, the fear came after the event, after she had already found some sort of magical solution. Presently, she used all her strength to hold onto Harry, her legs still dangling in midair. Her hands were slipping, so she unknowingly dug her nails into Harry's arm a bit. 

New fear seeped into him as they both billowed down in the air. His cloak flowed, beating at the wind harshly behind him as his broom turned down in efforts to catch Ginny fast enough. His hand touched her hand, but he was having a hard time holding onto her long enough. Both of them were both slowly cascading down to the hard ground of the Quidditch Pitch. 

He couldn’t recall any spell that could help them, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop them from hitting the ground fast enough. Her scream pierced his ears as their hands caught onto each other. Harry attempted his best to pull her up, but her weight and the strength of his arm did not help him. The air pulled at them as gravity fought against them with all that it could. He grunted, fighting his best as he could to pull her as well as pulling up the handle of his broom.

They continued to move down from the very highest point of the Quidditch Pitch, seemingly for several hours as he pounded his skull for a spell that could help him. His eyes widened as the ground seemed to near and his hand pulled away from the broomstick.

“Aresto Momentum!” He instinctively used to cushion their fall. The broom fell away from Harry’s legs and he used his other hand to pull the red head’s body against them as they crashed to the ground. His back hit the ground first, Ginny on top of him, as the ground seemed to feel harder than it should have. Their fall had slowed down at the last second, leaving their fall cushioned and less painful. 

Ginny barely heard the spell Harry called out and everything that happened after was a blur. All she knew was that one moment they were falling, and the next, Harry had let go of his broom and pulled her against him. She didn’t have time to panic about that broom thing before she felt an impact.

Ginny grunted as they landed on the ground, face-planted into Harry’s chest. Though their landing was softer than it would have been thanks to the spell, the wind still got knocked out of her for a moment. It took her a brief second of just lying there before she could once again think rational thoughts. Breathing heavily, she lifted her head up to see Harry’s face. 

Then she fell still, staring at him for a moment. She no longer thought, but rather felt. And what she felt was Harry beneath her, so close that they shared the same air. Ginny’s breath caught until reality set in. “Harry!” She exclaimed suddenly, face flushing lightly as she sat up, straddling his lap as she tried to pull him up with her by his shoulders. They had really just fallen from the sky. He had really just saved her from getting broken all over. Ginny blinked a few times as she tried to focus on him, tried to make sure he was unscathed.

“Are you all right?” Not much scared Ginny, rarely anything did really, except for people she cared about getting hurt. She couldn’t have that at all. 

His circular glasses had lay scattered across of his face. One long crack rode throughout the entire lens. His eyes were closed as his head lay in the dirt of the field. His entire body was motionless for several moments, merely sitting still on the ground. His chest began to raise and lower again slightly as he subconsciously began to take deep breaths again once Ginny had moved off of his chest. He wasn’t quite hearing her words yet as it came warbled in his head. His entire body ached, feeling as if several needles had just shocked his entire body. It was then that his emerald green eyes had opened.

The fall was lessened as the spell that he had cast saved them from plummeting to their deaths. But the shock of the hard ground floor had left his body a bit in shock. His lips parted as he inhaled, his arms finding their position on the ground, attempting to lift himself off of the ground. 

“Ow.” Harry muttered as he felt her hands on his shoulders, attempting to pull him off of the ground. He blinked slowly, feeling a sharp feeling in the back of his neck as he tried to turn it around here and there. “Kind of…” He offered her at her question, fixing his disarrayed glasses on his face, looking at her worried face a bit more clearly.

Without thinking about Harry’s possibly injuries, Ginny threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly out of relief. She was just happy to see that he could still speak, though that should have been a given. After all, Harry’s last minute spell had saved both their lives and there was no real reason to worry. But Ginny felt guilty, seeing as how he took the brunt of the fall for her benefit. Words couldn’t describe how truly touched she felt by the gesture. She would not, however, be voicing those thoughts aloud. Once she realized that her embrace could have hurt him, Ginny gasped and pulled away from him, though she was still straddling his lap partly. 

“Sorry!” She exclaimed, looking him over as if to check and see if any bones were jutting out. His anatomical makeup still seemed natural. Ginny finally met his eyes, simply staring into them for a moment before smiling slightly. 

He blinked his emerald eyes slowly, searching the red head’s face through the dirt that dusted his lenses. Panic spread through him as he recalled an event similar to this one exactly three years ago. Of course, it wasn’t completely the same. Really, the only thing that was similar about the two events was that he had fallen from his broom at such a high distance but had been saved by the certain spell. 

But instead of being attacked by Dementors, he had willingly put himself in danger to save the life of his best mate’s sister. He found it a bit of a shock certainly. Not many people could say that they actually leaped off of their broom to save the life of another. Except—Harry had literally devoted his entire life as a wizard to saving others—he was now dubbed the Chosen One of the Wizarding World. 

“Well, that was exciting…” She muttered a little breathlessly, always being the type to laugh off the scary things. The young Weasley‘s eyes were wild. “You have no one to blame but yourself, you know that, Harry?” She chuckled, but then her eyes turned a little more serious, a bit of admiration in them as she gazed at the disheveled boy. “I’m sure your chivalry will be the death of you.” 

“Well, I certainly couldn’t let my competition lose by falling off of her broom.” He felt the bone crushing hug quite more intensely than one would in a normal situation. A small sound slipped from his lips unintentionally as he felt the tight squeeze. He was accustomed to getting hugs such as these ones as he had always worried the people that loved him by throwing himself in dangerous situations that would certainly get him in trouble or cause the inevitable death.

“How noble of you.” Ginerva muttered sarcastically when he claimed his only reason for saving her was because it wouldn’t have been a fair win. Of course, Ginny didn’t believe that for one second. She knew Harry, and she knew how selfless he truly was. She really did admire him in that sense. Who else would so easily risk their life for another person? And Harry had done it time and time again! 

He knew that he was victim to several of Hermione’s hugs as it seemed that the only thing she did do these days was study and worry about him. He felt a bit guilty about it, but brushed it aside for another time. “Weasley, next time, I’m going to beat you and there will be no falling to distract me.” Harry gently reprimanded her with a shaky chuckle.

“In your dreams, Potter.” Ginny returned his smirk, though there was still some slight adoration in her eyes. “You might as well go ahead and give up. I mean, you’re already falling head over heels for me…” She said teasingly before climbing to her feet, stepping away from Harry and offering a hand to help him up.

A laugh slipped from his throat at her comment, his lips spreading in a grin as his eyes followed the red head as she climbed to her feet. He couldn’t help but watch her more closely now, feeling comfort that he hadn’t even noticed before. It was a type of feeling that he had noticed before. Not with Ginny, per say. 

He had felt it once with Cho Chang, that night that he had finally caught her attention and struck up the nerve to kiss the beautiful girl. But as soon as Dumbledore’s Army had been ratted out by the girl to Umbridge, he no longer felt that way. How could someone feel that way about some…traitor? He just hoped that he would never put his trust in someone that would ever betray him. 

Ginny bit her lip as she looked around the Quidditch Pitch. She spotted her broom a little ways away, but did not move to fetch it yet. Instead, eyes still trained on the magical cleaning tool, she mumbled, “You know, Harry… Neville spoke to me earlier.” Her tone became a little more serious all of a sudden, which was very unlike her. Ginny was hardly ever serious, and especially not around Harry, who had been going through a rough time recently. 

His eyebrows raised as he awaited whatever news that Ginny wanted to give him now. It wasn’t that he had anything against Neville. He didn’t at all! He really liked the guy. Specifically, he was one of the few people that Harry really trusted. But when topics of people such as Neville came to play, it only reminded him deeply of what had been done before the summer. He shook his head, nodding for her to continue.

“He was asking about you and… Dumbledore’s Army.” She finally met his eyes again. “Everyone is eager to start training again. They still trust you, Harry. And they need you to lead them… I know it’s asking a lot right now after what happened, but they need an answer. They can’t just keep waiting for a hero who doesn’t plan on showing up…” Her eyes went downward. It was clear that Ginny didn’t really believe he would leave them behind. She had too much faith in Harry Potter to think he would give up. 

“I don’t know, Ginny…” He muttered with a deep sigh, looking away from her. He felt incredibly uncomfortable then, wondering what exactly would come from him starting Dumbledore’s Army again. “I don’t trust myself, Ginny. What if something like last year happened? I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of something stupid on my part.” Harry explained to her.

“But people will get hurt if you don’t do anything.” Ginny argued with him. She had always been good at getting her point across, as it seemed she would do anything to come out ahead in a disagreement. “This is what he wants, Harry. You can’t lose faith in yourself…” She shook her head adamantly. 

Ginny was not going to let him be so down on his self. She wished she could just make her dark haired friend understand how great he truly was in her eyes; how he couldn’t just keep blaming his self for everything that went wrong. People would get hurt. People would die. Some things were unavoidable. As much as Ginny hated to admit all of that, she knew she needed to make Harry understand it somehow. 

Heaven knew Ginny was ready to die for their cause.

Confusion and conflict could easily be recognized across of Harry’s face. He didn’t know what to do about the situation. How could one make a decision such as this one in the blink of an eye? How could he possibly endanger so many lives, being responsible for causing the deaths of so many young, innocent witches and wizards?

He knew that by training those witches and wizards with Dumbledore’s Army would only influence more people to come and join the fight. Those people would sacrifice themselves for the end of Voldemort. How were they not afraid of their fates? Bloody hell, he knew that he was afraid of his impending doom. The prophecy had said it all. One of them had to die. “I’m afraid, Ginny…” He muttered, looking down through the lenses of his circular glasses.

“Harry, we trust you. We…We don’t blame you for what happened last year. And, honestly, it’s as simple as this.” Ginny grabbed his arm so he would be forced to look her in the eye as she spoke her next words. 

But somehow, in all that doubt and misfortune, Harry was able to see what Ginny was trying to get through his brain. There was a chance here that he could take that would benefit them all. It was possible that if he took this offer and continued building Dumbledore’s Army and training the students of Hogwarts, they may actually have a shot at winning the impending war. With the help of so many, hope didn’t seem so bleak.

“With or without you, we’re going to fight back. The only way you’ll save anyone is if you’re there to teach them and keep them safe.” It was true. Ginny knew of many of the old Army members who were anxiously awaiting Harry’s return. And if their hero didn’t show up, they would still fight this battle with him…they just might not win.

Ginny then sighed, dropping his arm and looking away. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you decide anything right now, Harry… I just want you to know that everyone still believes in you. That I still believe in you.”

“I know…I’ll think about it, okay?” Harry murmured, his eyes following her hand as it dropped from his arm, letting it hang loosely from his shoulder again. “I promise, I’ll make the decision soon.” He nodded, a disturbed sigh shakily escaping his lips as his battered form slumped next to her.

A wave of silence drifted upon the two Gryffindors as one of the most important decisions they would ever make in their lives was discussed. It wasn’t as simple as what dress robes would be worn to the Yule Ball or if one person was chosen for the House Quidditch team or not. This was a situation of life or death and Harry Potter was the one in charge of it. Would he allow the students of Hogwarts to begin training again for a war that none of them were prepared for? 

“We should head back.” The quiet murmur of the redhead echoed in the Chosen One’s ears as she finally spoke up again. Her hand dropped from her shoulder as she craned her neck and spotted both of their fallen brooms. Thankfully, neither had been splintered apart during the chaotic fall from the height that they had been buzzing by at. “Accio Firebolt.” Her voice picked up a bit in key as her command of magic allowed the two discarded broomsticks to pick up and swish into her awaiting arms. The heavy smack of the wood against the palm of her hands made Harry flinch slightly. “Dinner will be starting soon, so go clean yourself up a bit, Harry.” Her voice was gentle, alluring to the male. Ginny held her hand out with Harry’s own broomstick, encouraging him to listen to what she was saying. 

“I’ll see you there?” He asked her dumbly, raising his eyebrows above his circular glasses. For some reason, he didn’t want to leave the scene the two of them had procured. With the near death fall they had, the two of them had entered a zone of…intimacy while they stood on the Quidditch Pitch. He wasn’t too keen on leaving just yet when he felt that there was so much more that he had yet to discover. 

“Go, Harry.” She laughed, pushing his arm lightly on the shoulder, making sure not to put too much pressure on him as he had just plummeted down back to Earth from such a height. He was sure to still be aching. “I’ll get these two back in our lockers, you go.” She cocked her eyebrows up in reply, carefully mounting her broomstick again to fly back to the locker rooms with his Firebolt tucked safely underneath her arm. “And…save me a seat, will you?”

His cheeks were overheated as he watched her move around with his broomstick. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed in their situation as there really was nothing to feel shameful about in the first place. “Yeah, no problem. I got you.” Harry mumbled in reply, seeing the hint of a smirk on his best mate’s sister’s lips as she fearlessly steered her broomstick in the direction of the locker room. He took the spare moment to watch the beautiful girl drift away from him as he stood stilted, dumfounded. Why, yet again, he was letting go something he should surely keep a great hold on. 

All of his life, there had been something that he could just never let go of. He couldn’t help but just be possessive about something and in his situation at this part of his life, he felt that Ginny was that one thing he couldn’t let go of. Why the hell it took him so long to understand that, he didn’t know. But, now that he was slowly understanding what all the jumbled messes in his mind and in his heart were leading him to, he wasn’t going to hesitate in getting exactly what he had wanted. No, he wouldn’t hold back at all this time, not when for once, he might actually get to keep the reward he had been craving for so long.

As possessive as it sounded in his mind, Ginny Weasley was no longer Dean’s girlfriend. No, this competition was nowhere near finished. The challenge that she had created with her sly words and alluring looks had attracted him and now he had to play along. He would beat her at her own game, making sure that in the end, she would in fact be his and no one else’s. It had been claimed rather from the day that the two of them had met, though neither had quite understood it at such a young age yet.

Ginny Weasley was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thanks for reading, and I'll probably update in about two weeks.


	7. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Singular activities of Draco and Hermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thank you all for the reads and reviews! I’ve reached over a thousand reads, so that makes me happy. Just let me know what you guys think of the story and I’ll be the happiest person alive! And this is sort of just a filler chapter, I guess…no direct confrontation between Draco and Hermione, but more of their singular activities in between. And I’ll be updating every two weeks now on Sundays!
> 
> Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter does not belong to me, nor will it ever so…yeah.

Hermione could only barely hear Draco’s last words, and they were faint enough that she could pretend they never existed. They must have just been her imagination, for Draco Malfoy didn’t lose his calm composure so easily. Well, except for that little scene she had witnessed in the hallway, and Hermione had almost convinced herself that had never happened either. She couldn’t dwell too much on those so called human displays of Draco’s. She couldn’t allow herself to see him as someone who deserved her sympathy. Draco Malfoy was her enemy and Hermione would have to remain focused if she was to stop whatever dreadful scheme he was cooking up.

Boy, Hermione did love such a challenge. Not much could be said about that Slytherin boy in terms of morals or manners, but as far as intelligence went, Hermione knew he was the only one who was even close to matching her. But, of course, she was smarter than him! Her pride wouldn’t allow him too much respect, but Hermione knew he had a cunning edge to spare. She would have to be careful with this little task of hers. And hopefully, if she won their little game, Hermione would stop something catastrophic from happening. And she would do it all by herself, without the help of the other two thirds of the Golden Trio.

Presently, Hermione headed quickly towards the Gryffindor common room, her mind racing as it attempting to think only of foiling Malfoy’s plans. Of course, she still wasn’t ready to think about Harry and the distance he was creating between them, or Ron and his relationship with Lavender. Hermione was using Draco as a distraction and it was as simple as that. If she focused all of her energy on this quest and her studies, she wouldn’t have time to hurt. 

Upon entering the Common Room, Hermione went straight to one of the chair’s she had been at earlier, where a little stack of books sat undisturbed. Obviously, Hermione never had to worry about someone stealing her textbooks if she just left them lying around. She sat in the overstuffed red chair, opening the first one and ignoring the world around her for the moment. The latest object of her attention was Hogwarts: A History, which she had admittedly read many times before, being the only one in all of Hogwart’s history to do so. She was reading up on the Slytherin House itself, wondering if there was anything recorded that could help her find out any secret schemes.

Distracting herself turned out to be harder than she had first expected it to be. Hermione, unfortunately, was having trouble losing herself to the written word as she usually did. Her thoughts kept wandering to Draco Malfoy every time she read the word Slytherin or ambition. The Slytherin Prince always had had a habit of getting under her skin with all of his ridiculing and arrogance. She had always despised everything about him. 

But, surprisingly enough, the thoughts that plagued her mind now were not just of her hatred for him. Mainly, Hermione was curious. She wanted to know what had been going on in the corridor, what could have made him snap like that. She wanted to know when things had changed, when he went from just insulting others to physically assaulting them. Surely, every person had some breaking point. It took these confrontations for her to realize that Draco Malfoy was allowed to have a breaking point as well.

But even though she was curious about what was going on with Draco, her main reoccurring thought was of how much she wanted to break his nose again. How dare he threaten her and make a fool of her? How dare he call her a mudblood all those years and hit her best friend? For some reason, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to tell everyone about his little breakdown in the hallway, though there was a wicked part of her that wanted nothing more than to ruin his reputation. Hermione wasn’t a bad person, though. She couldn’t bring herself to use things like that against others.

And then, her thoughts eventually traveled to dangerous territory. She began to wonder where Ron and Harry were, since it was getting late and the sun was making its way down. It seemed every few minutes Hermione found herself glancing upwards to see if either of them would enter the Common Room. He’s probably just off with Lavender, snogging in the hallways like he doesn’t have….other priorities. Hermione’s thoughts became bitter without her even being aware of it. She couldn’t help it. 

Didn’t those two know she was worried out of her mind for them? It seemed like lately, neither Ron nor Harry cared about maintaining their friendship. They were drifting apart, and that broke Hermione’s heart more than everything because the Golden Trio was everything to her. Harry and Ron had become her life.

It was hard for her to come to terms with what was passing. It had always been the three of them together since their first year at Hogwarts. And even then, Harry and Ron hadn’t been her favorite people and she wasn’t theirs. But somehow, in all of that havoc, she had turned their opinions of her around and the Golden Trio had come to existence. 

She knew that the time would come that the boys would separate from her. She was after all a girl and when the time came, they would be interested in finding a girl for themselves. In some ways, males and females had always been separated. She had, to some extent, been cornered off from the trio, because she had been the only female amongst the three of them. 

She prided herself, though, in finding friendships in people besides Harry and Ron. They weren’t her only mates at Hogwarts. It was a bit conflicting for her to have such a small group of people that she surrounded herself with. So, it was something to be proud of for her to extend and befriend others besides her two best friends. She had maintained nice relationships with Luna and Ginny of late, finding that the two girls had more in common with her than she had previously thought. And then of course, she was friendly enough with Neville and Ernie Macmillan. 

But for some reason, being so isolated from her two best friends hurt more than it helped to be friends with others. Yes, they would distract her and make her laugh, but Hermione wanted Harry and Ron to break from their individual spells and return to her. She wanted the Golden Trio to be compact and never to hold any cracks in their friendship. Because to her, it appeared as though their sphere of protection was slowly breaking away. 

It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing else that she could do personally, to fix their friendship. It didn’t matter if she persisted heavily and attempted to reconcile with the boys. She couldn’t exactly reach out for them, only to have them recoil away from her. After all, any relationship needed both parties to reach halfway to the center and work together to maintain. She certainly did not want to have a one sided friendship, which felt more and more like of theirs. 

Of course, she knew that the Golden Trio would somehow return. Once everyone saw past their hormones and their grief, she would have her best friends come back together. They would work together and come up with the solution that they all needed. Now that there was the impending threat of Lord Voldemort coming to kill her best friend and possibly a good portion of the wizarding world, she wanted to help as much as she could to prepare Harry, herself, as well as the rest of the student body for whatever offense they would be attacked with.

The enormous load of thoughts began to heavily rain down on Hermione’s mood. She wasn’t prepared for any of this. She hated the feelings that ran her over whenever she thought about her redhead best friend, or the utter despair she experienced when she mulled over all the guilt that Harry tortured himself with. She only wished that there was something that she could do to fix the conflicts that occurred. There was something so disconcerting about not being able to do something about a situation. After all, Hermione thought that there was nothing worse than the feeling of being useless.

Perhaps this was exactly what explained her reasoning for being so unreservedly obsessed with the Slytherin Prince and all of his afternoon activities. It was a situation that she could handle with the lack of the absent feeling of having a role. She had too many other things to worry about. Therefore, she challenged herself with a problem that didn’t outwardly affect her in a personal way.

Draco Malfoy was a character that she and her best friends had absolutely despised for much of their lives. Of course, Hermione and Harry had only met him in their first year at Hogwarts, but Ron had outside experiences with the blonde haired boy from times before Hogwarts. They all had reasons to hate him, finding most of his qualities horrendous and absurd. In their eyes, he was an evil git that had trouble coming his way. That prompted most of her encouragement for researching the blonde ferret. The problem, however, was that because he was a person of modern times, there would not be anything in books she could possibly find to discover what the prat was up to in his spare time.

Hermione sighed loudly, tossing her book to the side in exasperation. Her efforts were, it was starting to seem, wasted. Nowhere in her texts had she found any clues to what Draco Malfoy could be up to. She was getting more and more frustrated by the minute.

“What are you hiding, Malfoy?” She muttered under her breath, letting her finger trail across the spines of the books stacked up on the table beside her. If only one of them contained the answers she sought. But, alas, she discovered that nothing in her wide range of books could reveal to her the answers she so desperately wanted to discern.

Finally, with another great sigh, the bushy haired Gryffindor rose from her chair and began pacing the floor of the nearly empty Common Room. She held a quill in one hand and moved it as if she could write in the air. Her face was a mask of pure concentration as she recounted the events of earlier and tried to make some sort of sense of them. 

Her focus was immediately ruptured, however, as the sounds of loud footsteps could be heard from the stairs that led to the Gryffindor Common Room. She could tell from the different sounds that there were two of them and this was their best attempt at remaining quiet. They definitely were rubbish at it.

A hardy chuckle could be heard from the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. First, one shadow of a boy could be seen right by the door. Then, another person crossed over, a high pitched giggle following after. The shadows soon revealed the figures as they turned the corner. A blonde witch and a red headed wizard ducked out from behind the door and entered the common room. Sheepish smiles crossed both of their lips as they intertwined their hands. 

Ronald Weasley leaned in from his side and pressed a chaste kiss to Lavender’s lips as she moved into the kiss, deepening it almost immediately. They only broke apart due to the loud cat calls from a few of the boys that he had befriended as well as the obnoxious giggles that came from nearby girls. Looking away from his new girlfriend, Ron turned to the other side of the common room, his expression sobering some as he spotted his best friend standing nearby. 

“Hermione…?” His voice was content as he spoke her name, a grin sliding onto his lips. Behind his display, though, a wave of nervousness cascaded on his shoulders, finding himself a bit worried as to what one of his best friends was going to say.

There wasn’t one particular thought that stood out to Hermione then. No, really most of the thoughts in her mind were raging, slamming against the sides of her skull. There was a wave of great emotions, holding a trembling shield over her face as she fought to keep those feelings at bay. The scene she had stumbled upon was one that she so greatly dreaded to see, fearful of finding it ever come true.

She wanted to scream and yell. Her hands wanted to reach out and snatch Ron’s hair, fisting it tightly as she reprimanded him for being so stupid. She wanted to rant of how obvious she was being and how he only had to take one look at her to tell how she felt about him. But no, she could not do any of that. Because for some reason, Hermione was a selfless person and always thought of others before herself. And as much as she hated Ron for what he was doing, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. 

“R-Ron…” She stammered a bit at his name, flashing her eyes back and forth in between her friend and his apparent new girlfriend. Of course, he just had to find his new affection for Lavender. She was her roommate and Hermione knew that tonight, she would be hearing all sorts of new things coming from the annoying blonde haired witch. 

“Hermione, what is it?” Ron questioned with a concerned expression flashing across of his face. He had absolutely no idea of what was going on in Hermione’s mind and she despised him so deeply for that. “Are you sick? Perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey.” He suggested, reaching forward to take her arm. 

“No! Uh…I’m fine, Ron. Just a bit tired.” She quickly came up with an excuse, blinking her eyes rapidly as if to keep all of her emotions from flooding out of her eyes. She wasn’t going to let his ignorance beat her down. No, she would not allow it.

“Oh, well…Lavender and I were just about to head out for dinner in a bit.” Ron tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes a bit as he looked at his friend. She could tell by the expression across of his face that he was beyond understanding what she was thinking. He would never be able to understand her wide capacity of knowledge, or even the mere thought of her having any romantic feelings for him. “Do you want to come with us?”

Her stomach churned violently at his words. The audacity! She berated herself mentally, knowing that he didn’t understand why she would be angry with him. “No, I’m not very hungry. I think I’ll just tuck in a bit early tonight.” Hermione lied, shaking her head slightly. Her stomach had the nerve to moan lightly at her words, telling her that she was in fact hungry for the dining hall’s appealing food. She was tempted to just accept his offer so that she could get a meal in before escaping, but reconsidered when she caught sight of Lavender pulling at her best friend’s arm again.

“Well, alright then, Hermione. I guess we’ll see you in the morning.” Ron nodded his head, bidding her goodnight before turning away towards the entrance again. His eyes scanned the perimeter, acknowledging that there was no one else in the Common Room that he would bother spend his time with. Lavender obediently followed behind him, slinking her pale arm through his. She could hear the start of a conversation between the two of them and bristled as she noticed her friend hanging on the blonde witch’s every word.

“Hermione? Can you help me with—?” She immediately cut off the voice that came from the seats on her sides.

“I’m sorry, Colin. I’m feeling kind of ill now, so I think I’ll go to bed.” Hermione quickly remarked, turning away from her fellow housemate. She braced herself with a kind smile, shrugging her shoulders apologetically to him. “But…perhaps, I could help you during breakfast?” She added on afterwards, feeling a guilty conscience as she turned the younger Gryffindor away. She shouldn’t take her frustration with Ron out on others. 

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks!” Colin beamed up at her, turning back to his assignment on the table, chatting amicably with his fellow fifth year students now that he had assistance for his assignment.

Hermione sighed deeply, pressing her hand to her forehead as she stepped away from the sofas and the fireplace, climbing up the stairs to her dormitory. Her experiences of today had really disturbed her poor mind and she was absolutely exhausted from worrying about everyone except herself. Screw Ronald Weasley and his new infatuation. Screw Harry for not trusting and confiding in her. And screw Malfoy for the marks he had left on her, physically and mentally. 

As she undressed into her night clothing, Hermione climbed into bed, planning and plotting her next move. 

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

It was odd—the feeling that had come over him. One would think that the absence of company would leave them feeling lonelier than they would have had they been still conversing with that specific person. Of course, he didn’t want to be conversing with Granger too long, knowing that that brain of hers would be the end of her. There was too much at risk here. 

That didn’t certainly mean that he had to be conversing with the annoying Gryffindor every time he had found time to creep away to the Room of Requirement. It appeared to him that whenever he had in fact found time to do something besides keep his housemates busy, he would either be running off to complete his task or Granger had somehow stalked him down once again while he was suspiciously wandering the halls of the school of magic.

Something was wrong with him. He had felt like she had done something to him, making him feel tentative about everything that he did. He was wary of getting caught already, knowing the severe consequences of his mistakes of betraying both sides of the war. One little mistake could ruin him. 

“Fucking Granger…stop.” He muttered angrily to himself, mentally berating himself over and over as his eyes searched the hallway the extended endlessly in both directions. He didn’t really know what to do anymore. Return to the Room of Requirement and continue working on the cabinet? He really was at a loss for any cause at the moment and Draco didn’t think that he could take the disappointment any longer for today.

Eventually, he had decided to stalk back to the Slytherin Common Room, where a small crowd of students were lounged across the plush, velvet couches strategically placed to face the fireplace. The entire room felt chilly and dark, having been the only Common Room that literally was housed beneath the Black Lake. 

A sneer rolled to his lips as he swiftly moved past the younger students seated around a table, playing a game of Exploding Snap. They immediately froze, their wide eyes staring up at him in a mixture of fear and admiration. Draco ignored them easily, his gray eyes searching the perimeter for anyone that wouldn’t certainly annoy him too much. 

“Pansy…” He muttered, spotting the raven haired girl chatting amicably with a few of his other comrades.

Striding across the Common Room, he waved his hand at the Slytherin boy seated next to the girl, forcibly encouraging the boy to slide out of the seat and vacate it for the Slytherin Prince himself. A frown settled across the girl’s lips as she was left open mouthed with her conversation swept away by the blonde. 

“Was that necessary, Draco?” She finally announced in an irritated and impatient tone after remaining quiet for another moment or two.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing there, but he remembered that once upon a time, he used to seek comfort out of Pansy Parkinson. Was that what he was doing now? He didn’t want comfort, but more of a distraction. And Pansy was the perfect example of a distraction…

His gray eyes wandered over her body a bit skeptically, as if wondering whether he was happy with his own intentions or not. He didn’t take pleasure necessarily in the misery his friend would feel when she figured that pining after him was a lost effort. There would never be a time when Draco would reciprocate the affections the Slytherin female felt for him. 

It was inevitable for the heartbreak that the girl would feel if he even gave her a hint of his attention. It tended to happen just because she felt that he was vulnerable and that it would give her a chance to make a move on him. It wasn’t something he appreciated very much. But he was always prepared for the confrontation from the sly girl, knowing exactly what she was up to when she was around him.

Had he been a bit more attentitive lately, he might have realized where Pansy’s eyes had turned to while he had been brooding that past few days. Things had changed much in his friend group and he hadn’t even noticed the entire time that he had been trying to sneak away and attend to his own duties. 

Perhaps if he had even lifted his eyes from his near empty plate at the dining hall, he would notice that the reason why Pansy would be giggling was because she had been laughing due to something a certain Zabini was saying. He would be more aware of what was going on around the people that had been with him since day one. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Draco shrugged his shoulders carelessly, his voice lilting in a way that exposed innocence. Resting his head back against the cushion of the couch, he turned his eyes to the girl by his side, sizing her up. When his eyes returned to her face, he could easily see the expression on her face. She didn’t bother hiding it this time as she wrinkled her nose. 

“I’m not sleeping with you, Draco.” Her voice warned him tightly, her eyebrows furrowing deeply as she attempted to keep her composure. It was no secret that Pansy had been in love with him for much of her life. Whether those emotions still remained to this day, he didn’t know, but a distraction would really be nice. Besides, he needed to reconnect with his housemates, otherwise he would be found out much earlier than had been planned.

“Well, why the hell not?” He nearly whined to her, his voice rising in volume slightly as he leaned over the arm of the couch.

His comment seemed to only irritate Pansy Parkinson further. Everyone thought of her as some trollop that held her legs open for any man that was willing to even glance in her direction. But, that wasn’t quite true. Her reputation of being such a loose girl did not correctly align with what her true personality and actions showed of her. So, of course, when someone that has known her for so long suggests that she open her legs for him, she adamantly would refuse. Even if she had been in love with that boy for most of her life. 

“No, Draco.” She frowned, a glare shot in his direction. “In case you didn’t know, my life doesn’t revolve around you. I’m not going to beckon to your every call…when only you want me and turn away when you don’t.” Pansy shut her book close, folding it in her palm before standing from her seat and preparing to stalk away from the blonde.

He never really dealt well with rejection. It was probably because he wasn’t that quite used to being rejected in the first place. Draco was the type of person that got everything that he wanted. He had been spoiled rotten when he was a child, getting meaningless things just because he wanted to have them. It was all mainly for show, to feel superior than the others by comparing his items to those of lesser income. It could have been something as trivial as the newest broomstick or an expensive potions kit.

It never felt right for him to not get what he wanted. If he demanded something around the Slytherin Common Room, he would get it. He had worked himself up into such a position at Hogwarts that even the students older than him appeared to beckon to his will. It wasn’t all just his doing, of course. Most of his power had come just from the significance behind his name. He was a Malfoy, and that meant that he had to be on a higher level that the average student. None of these people should even compare to him.

But, there were different types of things that were harder to handle just because they were topics of more sensitivity. It was like his situation now. He was being rejected by someone he knew quite well on his offer to have sex with him. It shouldn’t have been a big deal for either of them as they had indulged themselves in such activities for so long before. He had a bit of a soft spot for the few Slytherins he had allowed to come under his wing. No, of course, he wouldn’t call any of them his friends.

Slytherins didn’t have friends. And Malfoys especially did not. All that they had were allies, enemies, acquaintances, and followers. Somehow, in every situation, the Malfoys were the ones to end up on top, conquering their role of power. It seemed only comical to him now how his powerful family had been reduced to mere slaves of the Dark Lord. What ever happened to never submitting to anyone? 

And in that moment, it reminded him quickly of the Malfoy family motto: Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. The Latin words roughly translated into purity will always conquer. If only his ancestors knew what their successors were doing in the present. Draco almost chuckled at the thought. Maybe following the Dark Lord would allow purebloods to conquer, but it didn’t seem that any of them would be living any better than they were before. 

“That’s certainly too bad, Pansy.” His voice drummed out casually, dragging his intense, grey stare at the dark haired girl. Some liked to say that she somewhat resembled a pug. While he could see a bit of a similarity, he would never say such a thing to her face unless he really needed to unhinge her. She wasn’t all that terrible to look at, honestly. Perhaps she caked her face with a bit too much make up and she held herself in a way that was unappealing, but she really was just the image of a true pureblood woman. 

“Draco…” His supposed friend’s voice drew out cautiously. Her voice dipped in a warning tone, prepared for some type of backlash from her withdrawal from him. He wasn’t going to just let her get away with refusing his offer. He had tried nicely with her after all.

“Oh, shut it, Pansy.” His voice eventually snapped at her, impatience running clearly through his tone. “I just want to talk.” His aggression had definitely shown in the way his shoulders had tensed and his jaw had firmly locked in place. The young Malfoy boy wasn’t going to be pleasant with her with how he had been treated, but he wasn’t going to force Pansy into bed with him. He wasn’t some womanizer that liked to rape his company if they weren’t willing to spend the night with him. No, even that sounded wicked and immoral to Draco, to touch a women that was unwilling and forced. 

Pansy’s lips curled back slightly, her eyes narrowing as she huffed and returned to the seat she had been previously vacating. Her posture was straight and tight like any mannerly pureblood girl with her expression revealing nothing but the distaste she had for his request. He could see easily from her reaction to his sharp words that she was less than happy to be the one having a conversation with him. Surely, he was pleasant company enough? What did he do to deserve such a reaction from her? He hadn’t even outwardly asked her to go to bed with him, so she had no reason to blame him for her radical assumptions. He could only blame his thoughts and his previous actions in the past.

“Well, then? What the bloody hell do you have to say?” Her voice was tight and constricted as if it were difficult for her to find a way to sound amicable. Her slender fingers were wrapped around the bindings of her book, sitting on top of her crossed thighs. Her distress was obvious to him just by the way her shoulders stood at attention. Perhaps he had gotten better at reading people’s expressions now that he had discovered how to actually search through someone’s mind with Legilimency. 

A deep sigh fell from the blonde’s lips as he scrutinized the other Slytherin. Now that he had actually settled Pansy for a conversation with him, he actually had to think of a conversation to have with her. “Nothing, really. Can’t I just sit down with one of my friends and have a nice chat?” Draco questioned her with a raise of his eyebrows. There really was no purpose for this except that he hadn’t really had any human interactions with anyone besides Granger of late. Having a conversation with Pansy would most likely be the best way to distract himself from the annoying, meddlesome witch.

Her lips twitched slightly as she prepared to snark at her friend. “And you just had to come and bother me? What about Blaise or Theo?” She raised her hand in protest, explaining her frustration with him. “I’m sure either of them would have been more than happy, and willing, to have a nice chat with you, Draco.” Her sarcastic tone was evident and she wasn’t even bothering in trying to hide it from him anymore. He may be her friend, but she wasn’t going to allow him to stomp all over her dignity and pride because she had once fancied him in the past. 

Draco knew that exactly, which was why he had prided himself in befriending, or allying, himself with the Slytherins he knew would be able to become one of his followers, yet would never leave him ordering them around. He couldn’t stand plonkers like Crabbe and Goyle that could easily get lost in busying themselves with their insensitive hunger as well as having the brains the size of a nut. The two of them seemed to be getting more daft as they returned to Hogwarts each year, allowing their brains to decrease in size every term. It was why he liked to keep people like Blaise and Theo from the male Slytherins and Daphne and Pansy from the females. They all could at least somewhat complement his intelligence.

That’s what he needed the most now. Intelligence and cunning actions would be the determining factor in how his life played on from here on now. It was up to the people he trusted the most to keep to themselves what was pulling at his attention and come up with some type of cover story as to where he kept disappearing. It didn’t help, however, that those specific Slytherins didn’t quite know where exactly he was throwing his focus at in the first place. How could they be expected to lie and deceive a multitude of people when they didn’t even have the entire background story? It was hard to come up with something that wasn’t too close to the truth.

Of course, Draco didn’t know where his allies’ true intentions and loyalties lied. He couldn’t quite in fact rely on them too heavily. It was impossible to tell who was dedicated to the Dark Lord or who wanted to break away. He knew that the only person he could truly call a friend, Blaise Zabini, was having strange thoughts recently. Draco didn’t dwell too much on these things, knowing that he would never give his own friends and allies up to the person that was causing so much harm to him. If Blaise defected, he didn’t know what he would do if his assistance was required to find the Zabini heir. 

It was because of the strange circumstances of whether defection was a probable solution for those he kept close that he could not reveal what his true mission was for the Dark Lord. He was tasked with something beyond his limits, or so what was intended. No one ideally ever assumed that he would ever complete this task and Draco didn’t want any of the people he surrounded himself with to figure it out. Surely, it would be revealed in time. He wasn’t that naïve, of course, to believe that his secret position and work would never be compromised under the fierce glare of the Hogwarts witches and wizards. 

Holding these would-be situations close to his heart, he only entrusted his task with himself and the Death Eaters that had been present at the meeting when he had been assigned the task in the first place. His mother had been informed by Professor Snape soon after the meeting and had wept throughout the entire night. He didn’t think he would ever feel more disgusted with himself. The reasons behind all of his secrecy could never fall into the hands of the single individual Pansy Parkinson. No, she was not trustworthy enough with that cursed gossiping tongue of hers that spread vicious rumors just about anything.

“Actually…I need something from you.” Draco finally announced, peaking the girl’s attention immediately.

“What exactly do you need?” Pansy wrinkled her brown, consumed in a violent mixture of both curiosity and caution as to what was being requested of her.

“I know you, Pansy,” He started off. “I know how easy it is for people to believe just about anything that comes from your mouth. Even if they are lies.” He mentioned slowly, speaking each word with a planned hesitation. He waited patiently for her reaction as she caught up with and figured out the gist of what he had been trying to get across to her.

“I know I can lie, Draco. What’s your point?” She was, however, absolutely dumbfounded as to what he was asking her to do with her talents.

“Someone would think you were just a gormless berk.” Draco rolled his eyes with frustration. Her lack of common sense had always been a great turn off for the blonde Slytherin Prince. 

“Draco!” Pansy bit back, an annoyed roll of her lips revealing itself.

“Fuck, Pansy…I need you to spread something around about our favorite mudblood. She’s been giving me the eye lately and while it’s flattering, I don’t want a bint like her drooling over me.” He couldn’t exactly think of what he wanted to happen. But damn, he just wanted fucking Granger to get off of his back. She was always there when he turned around and he just wanted her to leave him the hell alone! 

“Granger?” Her tone was incredulous and disbelieving. Everyone knew of the intense rivalry between the Golden Trio and him. 

The female of the little threesome matched him considerably well, which tended to irk Draco greatly. He didn’t want to believe it. Hermione Granger equaled him or did better than him in their schoolwork. It was something he fought greatly in all of his years of Hogwarts. Always, every single year, Granger would best him. Somehow, she would find a way to make him miserable, always ending up in the first position with him behind her in all of their shared classes.

“Yes, Granger. Who the hell else matters?” He scowled deeply at Pansy, snapping the comment at her. He had been, up until then, unaware that what he had been thinking slowly was making itself awake on his features. Draco wrinkled his nose in grave distaste at his own remarks. “Bloody hell, Pansy. Just do what I said.” He demanded.

Pansy’s expression had contorted into one indescribable to Draco. He knew that it wasn’t good when he wasn’t able to tell what she was thinking at the moment. That was something he didn’t like one bit. “Whatever you say.” She ended in a quieted mutter, casting an irritated glare in his direction. “Now, are we done? Or do you have something else you’d like to use me for?” She grit her teeth together, clamping her jaw in frustration with him.

“That’s all I had to say.” He exhaled, flashing her a blank face as he picked himself off of the sofa he had been occupying. “Just don’t…don’t mess up, okay? I don’t have any room for mistakes right now.” He sighed, turning his head to side to give her a look. His face didn’t give anything away, but he met her eyes and sent any messages across to her that she needed to know.

“I won’t, I promise.” Pansy nodded her head in return, allowing a sober expression to replace her previous frustrations. It was comical to him how easily he had angered her and calmed her down in the same moment. 

Draco twisted away from her, using brisk movements to make his way to the sixth year boys’ dormitory that he shared with Blaise and Theo. However, his movements were stopped in step as he heard Pansy’s voice alert him from behind. “Draco, you know you can trust me, right? I always just want what’s best for you.” She informed him, quieting her voice down so that the other Slytherins in the room could not hear their conversation.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He muttered, briefly looking over his shoulder at the dark haired witch before moving away. She was wrong, though. He couldn’t trust her. No, he couldn’t trust anyone if his life depended on it. The only one that was trustworthy enough was Draco himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and I’ll update two Sundays from now!


	8. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cursed necklace at Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Thanks for the reads. My friends are threatening to read this, so I am scared for their reactions...hopefully, it's good. Phew...any my brother is supposedly reading it too. That's a bit awkward. So, yeah. Read and review!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and yeah...shush.

Weeks had passed by with the normal troubles. She should have expected that despite her attempts at playing nice with Malfoy would only backfire greatly at her. He wasn't a nice person and it would take a lot more effort than she had been giving to get anything out of him. A few interactions in the hallways hadn't left her completely undignified though.

She found that over the course of the next few weeks, Malfoy had started to look more ill. His already alabaster complexion had paled significantly, leaving hollows underneath his eyes and his features a bit more sunk in. She didn't understand what he was going through, and it felt as though there really was nothing that she could do about it. He would let her in the first place, of course. He hated her.

Malfoy seemed keen on torturing her despite his focus being in another direction. It wasn't direct confrontation like it always was in years past, but rather little details that only he knew would discomfort her. She hated that he knew what insecurities drew her in a foul mood and it seemed to be his objective to make sure her day was ruined. 

He was getting much more aggressive with others as a whole, though. Not only had he been emotionally unbalancing her with his snide, little remarks, but had been showing his distaste for things much more clearly now. He had always been upfront about the things he wanted and needed, and now, she seemed to see him using these little acts of defiance as a strange form of a cry for help.

She found it so incredibly hard and annoying to feel any of this disgusting sympathy for someone so undeserving of even a speck of her attention. She hated herself for even thinking about him one bit. She didn't deserve to undergo this ridiculous strive to help a cause that was unwilling to oblige to anyone but himself. 

Hermione recognized the fact that he had always been this way, growing up never having the chance to do or make all the decisions for himself. Or at least, the simple ones that defined him. But other than that, he was on his own growing up. It was probably what had made him to be such a vile person.

She even recalled that last week during DADA, he had gotten especially rattled out with Professor Snape. The two had basically confronted each other in a verbal brawl in front of the entire class. It had been amusing and entertainment for a great many of the students in her class, including Harry and Ron, but for her it had been a pull of her heartstring. She wasn't sure why, but she hated what was happening to him. She wanted to help him for reasons unknown to herself and it annoyed every fiber of her being. 

It seemed to her that she was the only one who thought this way. If she had ever brought up the conversation of Draco Malfoy to Harry or Ron, they would turn their noses up at her and immediately dive into the overused topic of his endeavors of being a Death Eater. What could she possibly do to change her own opinion? Why couldn't she still be thinking of Malfoy the same way her friends were? 

It riled her endlessly that she wasted her time with someone that didn't want her help. Perhaps that was exactly what he wanted. Malfoy wanted her to pull out her own hair by the time Christmas came around, and she felt that that was exactly what would happen.

He didn't want her help and that was final. Perhaps...she just needed to run into him alone one more time. But, it appeared to her that he was attempting just as hard to avoid her as she was trying to seek him out. And every time that she did happen to run into him, he was surrounded by his crowd and she had Harry and Ron with her. But, she knew for sure that he had his own inkling as to what she had been doing in her spare time.

Her mind had definitely needed a rest from being repeatedly reminded of the blonde ferret, Draco Malfoy. He was a menace to her mind and she felt that she rightfully deserved time away from that topic. It was certainly helpful that she was able to finally spend quality time with Ron and Harry out at Hogsmeade today, having finally given the opportunity to get away from the castle for a day of non-stressful fun. Hermione only hoped that it would turn out that way.

Everyone seemed to be settling in Hogwarts just fine, ignoring all that was happening outside of the safe and strong walls. She guessed that she should have expected such a reaction from the student body. Everyone wanted to pretend that there weren't actually any clumps of murders reported in The Daily Prophet in every new issue. But, she decided that it was kind of impossible to ignore such impacting news.

It wasn't an issue she liked to take lightly. It was no small matter in which one could just brush by to search the new Quidditch articles. But, the fact remained clear that most people here at Hogwarts were hoping to get away from all the terror that bombarded outside of their safe haven. Surely, the muggleborn witches and wizards like her were given a better reason to blame their fear on. After all, an infamous mass murderer wanted to end their very existence and would surely stop at next to nothing to achieve his goal. 

She had heard about those muggleborns and even some half-bloods that weren't allowed to come back to school because their parents were fearful of parting with them. She understood the danger, but could not accept her parents ever telling her to leave behind Hogwarts. This place was her home and she knew that there really was no place safer than Hogwarts itself. Despite all that had happened to her in the past five years as a witch, she still stuck by her commitment to the school of magic. It was better than staying anywhere else.

The concerns of the outside world berated her mind heavily as Hermione struck through the clump of papers binded loosely together in the one and only Daily Prophet. A new tale had spun out about a vicious attack on a Muggle village. What earned a scowl across the witch's face was the snarky remarks that were stated in an article on the page behind it. How dare that women attempt to reprimand her best friend in an article stated right behind a long list of deaths on the first page? Obviously, priorities were quite strewn around. "She has absolutely no originality. If she really wanted to insult Harry, don't you think she should come up with something a bit cleverer?" She reprimanded her sworn enemy, Rita Skeeter, as she pushed the crinkled papers in her best friends' faces. "She should be ashamed of herself! Trying to bypass all those innocent lives taken through boasting in some article about the Chosen One?"

"Hermione, please. I don't know why you even bother to look at what Skeeter says anymore. Everyone knows that she only writes a shit load of rubbish." The charming reply had come from her redheaded friend who had finally found time to get away from his girlfriend long enough to spend the day with his true friends. After all, Hogsmeade had been a nice tradition of theirs to find some relaxing time together for the Golden Trio.

"Ronald, she continues to bother us even after I have proven to her that we obviously have the upper hand on her. Merlin, she is an unregistered animagus!" Hermione's eyes were wide as she leaned forward on her seat. The wooden table rattled a bit as she shifted her full weight against the side. Her eyes flickered across the surrounding tables at the Three Broomsticks where a large number of amicable conversations were being held. Once she acknowledged the fact that their conversation wasn't being followed by anyone around them, she continued. "Imagine what that could mean. No more articles first reprimanding Harry and then following with claiming he's the so-called Chosen One! God, she's so bipolar!"

She could basically see Ron's eyes rolling back into his head as he expressed his opinion of the matter. "I would think that the person who those articles about should be the one talking about how barmy Skeeter is." He suggested in a critical tone. Of course, he would find this time to be opposing her out of all the times she had asked him for his opinion.

"Well, Harry...what do you think?" Hermione turned to her other friend, finding his gaze locked on a scene over her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, attempting to catch his attention. "Harry!" She alerted him once more, startling him. His eyes blinked rapidly behind his glasses as if he had been unaware that there was a conversation he was zoning out on. 

"Sorry, what?" She had always been accustomed to hearing that confused arch in his tone after a lesson or while they were attempting to complete their homework together. 

"We were talking about the Daily Prophet. She's been writing about the Chosen One again, ignoring the actual problems in this bloody world." Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing the papers in front of him so that he could see for himself. She only resorted to curse words when she was truly flushed and irritated, proving that this matter had struck her nerves quite well. Her gaze was sharp as she watched him scale down the rows and columns of words that flickered across the black and white page. It was strange how the papers weren't in color, considering how advanced the wizarding world was becoming. They really needed to invest some time in learning from Muggles that seemed to fly past witches and wizards despite not having any magic to aid them.

"Why are we even talking about this? It's just the same old rubbish it always is." His voice was low as his eyes flickered again from his friends to the table in the corner. He was obviously too distracted to pay attention to what they were really talking about. Hermione was frowning again, turning her head over her shoulder to find what exactly he was so keen on watching while she was trying to have a conversation with him and Ron.

"What are you—?" Her voice faded into the air as she pushed her bushy hair out of her eyes to find what had peaked Harry's curiosity. Snuggled away in the darker corner of the Three Broomsticks, she caught sight of Ginny and Dean sitting quite close to each other. The witch toyed with her boyfriend's hand as they talked with each other. "Oh," She squeaked, a light blush spreading across of her cheeks. 

"Oh, bloody hell!" She turned her head to see Ron's face twisting into an expression of great distaste. It was obvious to her and all of their friends that Ron was particularly passionate about making sure that his sister remained pure and untouched. Apparently, he was the one in charge of deciding whether his sister wanted to indulge herself with other males in the first place. Dear God, help them all if Ronald ever found out about what Ginny had already done. 

"Honestly, Ron. They are only holding hands." She protested, feeling a bit defensive herself about one her friends and her relationship. It made her boil at the thought of how he had reacted upon finding her in a relationship with Victor. That boy really needed to learn his boundaries and how to respect them. Because, he really had no business interfering with other people's love lives when he could barely handle his own. 

"No, they aren't! Bloody hell, how does she even know how to snog?" Ron sneered in a frustrated tone, glaring at the back of his friend's head. Yes, Dean and him were friends, yet he still didn't think he was worthy of dating his younger sister. Somehow, she didn't think that Ron would think anyone was worthy enough for Ginny. Perhaps that was just what having six older brothers did for the only female in the family. 

"Well, then how do you think she feels when you're off snogging Lavender everywhere that you go? I happen to think that you look rather unappealing, so what would Ginny think?" Hermione turned her nose up in the air, an abashed expression crossing her features as she attempted to keep down all of her angry emotions with Ron. It would really do neither of them any good if she began to spout out all the random facts in her mind that would only appear as nonsense to Ron. 

Her features were beginning to become flustered as she had an intermediate stare off with her friend. This was leaning over on the edge of a topic of conversation she was hoping not to peak into. She happened to avert her eyes to Harry who had situated an amused grin on top of his lips at the pure embarrassment that she and Ron had put themselves under. He took that opportunity to acknowledge a heavy, elder man who drifted from table to table, nodding at a couple students and stopping for a short conversation with those he favored. In his hand was a goblet of firewhiskey, swinging casually from his plump fingertips. 

"Professor Slughorn," His voice was amicable as he stood up. Harry's hand moved to push his circular glasses up onto the bridge of his nose as he stood to greet their Potions Master. 

"Harry, m'boy! It's so wonderful to see you out of the classroom." His voice was loud and light hearted, holding a friendly tone. She had to agree that while the Professor had his few faults, he was a great improvement over having Snape for Potions. 

But now, they had to deal with him during Defense Against the Dark Arts, the position he had been begging to wrap his bony fingers around for so many years. She had her suspicions that the reason that Dumbledore hadn't allowed him to teach that class was because he didn't want the former Death Eater to fall back into old habits. Over and over again, Snape had proved his loyalties, but she still didn't trust him one bit.

"And you, Professor." Harry responded politely, taking the hand that had been thrusted out at him. The handshake had been hard and firm, creating stiffness in her best friend's arm as he pulled it back to his side. "So, what brings you down to Hogsmeade?" He asked, knowing fully well that their Professor was keen on having conversations with people that he undeniably favored. 

"Oh, just a bit of fresh air outside of the castle. Those pesky portraits tend to embarrass me whenever I walk by." He grumbled a bit, though his expression showed ever the carelessness of what he was speaking about. "Thought I'd come down to this old place and fancy myself a drink or two. The Three Broomsticks and I go back a long time, more than I care to admit." Slughorn let out a hearty chuckle, sloshing his drink to the side as he buckled. The darker liquid of his drink spilled outside of his goblet and splashed onto the table as well as on Hermione and Ron. "Oh, watch out there Miss Granger." His voice bellowed as he turned his attention away from Harry briefly to look at the mess he had created. 

Her mouth had slipped open into an oval ship out of surprise as she held her hands back out of instinct. She had only been sprayed with a few drops, the table having gotten most of the spill. Hermione's lips pinched together out of annoyance, but she did not allow her Professor to catch sight of how she felt about his incompetence. Therefore, she merely forced a smile in his direction as he waved his arm about and returned his attention to Harry.

She scowled at her friend for a moment as she spotted the amusement plastered across of his features. She could tell that he had every intention to reminisce about this later, making fun of the incident. He merely quirked his brow as he glanced at his two friends before placing his undivided attention on Slughorn again.

"So, back when I used to teach at Hogwarts, I would occasionally put together a little supper party of the sort and invite a few outstanding students here and there." His voice dropped a bit in volume as if trying to hide his supposed secret to spare the feelings of the people around them who had not been granted such an invitation. But, everyone knew that Slughorn's parties were merely for him to get to know the students that had relations with great, famous people. Harry, being the Boy Who Lived, had a shoo-in opportunity to take in participation among the many others that had sparked the Potions Professor's attention. "Would you be interested?" 

Harry's head ducked a bit out of embarrassment, knowing fully well that the invitations that were already being handed out might come to him. It wasn't shameful on his part, nor was it arrogant to expect such a supposed reward. "I would be honored, sir." Harry nodded his head shortly, smiling slightly. Politeness was granted, but was it necessary that he had to go to such parties in order to stay in good terms with the man? His sudden success in Potions had astonished everyone, specifically Hermione, as Harry had never been that great at the subject. It was just that old book he was using! But, it was because of his success that Slughorn was delighted with him for now.

The Potions Professor made a small hum of agreement as a large smile vacated his lips. With sheer thrill, the generous man turned to Hermione and extended the greeting. "You too, Granger." His good-natured attitude struck her annoyance from before, allowing her to swallow her butterbeer a bit too quickly.

Hermione's expression was a bit pinched as she pulled her glass away from her lips and set it down on the table once again. Swallowing the liquid down thickly, she breathed once again before turned to her Professor. "I would be delighted, sir." She responded kindly, dying inside from disappointment with herself. What exactly would she be doing at one of Slughorn's parties?

Slughorn's small eyes strained down slightly as he smiled widely. "Grand! I'll be sending an owl to both of you very soon." He raised his goblet to his lips, taking a large gulp before nodding approvingly in their direction. He made a small comment to Ron, mistaking his name and calling him something completely different before ending their conversation and briskly walking away in the opposite direction to another table.

"It's been weeks since I've been in his class..." Ron muttered darkly, sending an irritated scowl at his glass of butterbeer when their Professor had finally gotten out of earshot. 

"Oh, you're just bitter that you weren't invited." She teased, her mouth turning up in a wry grin at her friend's act of disappointment. It had always been an object of interest in Ron's case, being outshined by nearly everyone in his family. She knew that he always felt inferior to his siblings and his friends. And, this situation just further proved his theory.

"How does he not know Ron's name yet, Hermione?" She heard Harry laugh as he asked his question to her, attempting to stifle the sound by his hand. Both Harry's and her own reactions were enough to rile their other friend up. Ron's cheeks flamed out of his embarrassment, ducking his head down. His ears peeked through his red hair, allowing her to see them slowly pinkening. 

"Oh, he's just making some fun." She rolled her eyes, though a smile was working at her lips thoroughly. "Come on...everyone knows who the Weasleys are."

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

After a well spent day at Hogsmeade, exploring the many stores that lined the streets, the trio had been casually returning back to the castle. Hermione was in a strange mood, acting a bit more vibrant and hyper after drinking much butterbeer and feasting on some candies. Her arms were wrapped lazily around the shoulders of her best friends as they stumbled down the snowy path. 

She had stepped ahead of the two boys earlier on, moving a few steps ahead of them. If she had been with them still, she would have heard Ron's question to Harry. 

"Did you hear what she said about the two of us snogging?" He asked Harry in a bit of an incredulous tone. 

Harry merely had an amused expression across of his features, hiding his true reaction with his hand by pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I heard Ron. I was there too, you know." He chuckled. 

"As if..." Ron muttered in response, shaking his head as the two of them had caught up finally to Hermione who had strayed a bit before returning to her friends.

The snow was deeper than before, thickening the layer into at least a new foot of snow on top of ice. Their feet crushed into the soft whiteness, leaving behind deep footprints as they moved forward. Hermione stuck her tongue out gradually, giggling as a flake from the sky landed across her face and dipped onto her taste buds, leaving a cold feeling. Her gloved hands tapped the boys' shoulders, rising to her face to fix her falling cap from her eyes so she could see the scene before her better.

They were being followed by Professor Flitwick and Hagrid several meters behind and preceded by Katie Bell and Leanne Hevel. The professors were too far back to overhear any conversation from, but the girls hadn't gained much distance on them. The two girls were immersed in a deep conversation, seemingly arguing over the specific package in Katie's hand.

"Katie, you don't know what it could be." Leanne reprimanded, reaching for the package in her friend's gloved hands.

"I told you, Leanne! I know what I'm doing." The Gryffindor Chaser argued with her Hufflepuff friend, thrusting her arm against her side to keep the girl from snatching up the package wrapped in brown paper. "I have to give this Professor Dumbledore..." Katie's words were drowned out by the harsh winds blowing towards the trio.

"Hmm...Katie doesn't seem to be acting quite like herself." Hermione muttered, turning her face to look at Harry as he did know the girl better than she or Ron did. The girl usually was so kind and pleasant to everyone, speaking in a soft tone and helpfully giving her input when needed. This certainly wasn't the way that she had ever acted in front of her.

"Yeah, you're right. She's usually so—" Harry began to speak, wiping his face from waves of snowflakes hitting his face when he was interrupted by a loud scream ahead of them. 

She had not been prepared for something like this. No one could actually ever prepare to see something like this ever happen. Katie's body had rose in the air, six feet off of the ground. Her arms were held out as if she were flying, appearing as though she was some angel floating off of the ground rather than being pulled by some force. Her red coat stood out in contrast compared to the pure white background, spare of a couple trees with a base of green peeking out of the layer of snow. Her hair flapped around her face wildly in the wind while her face remained with the same expression of mid-scream, appearing to be trapped in time. Her mouth was dropped in an oval, emitting the harshest scream. It proved to tell that whatever she was staring at, or feeling, was causing her terrible pain. Katie continued to scream again and again, her body flailing for another moment before dropping to the ground like a weight. Her body slumped into a heap on the snowy ground, not moving.

"Katie, Katie!" Her friend dropped to the ground next to her, pulling at her limp limb in attempt to wake up the unconscious girl. Her cries were muffled by the sound of the wind while Hermione moved forward along with Harry and Ron to survey the scene that had occurred before them. 

"Hagrid!" She could vaguely hear Harry calling out for the teacher behind them as they all hunched over the still body on the ground. Hermione was panicking dearly, afraid for the life of her classmate as their professors rushed to meet them. 

"Stand back, all of you...she's been cursed." Hagrid quickly stepped up, brushing past all four of the students to examine the girl. His burly body was blocking Hermione's view from seeing Katie, but soon noticed her being carried in Hagrid's arm. "Don't touch that Harry. Just by the wrapper." 

She darted her eyes behind her to see Harry squatted on the ground next to the package Katie had been carrying earlier on. The wrapper had ripped from its original taped position, blowing violently back and forth from the breeze. A velvet box had spilled out of the wrapping, its content slipped half out onto the snow. She recognized it easily as a necklace, decorated with a series of opals until the metal combined with a clasp.

The necklace was of iron makings, drawn with circular opals ornamenting the sides. Three opals treasured each side, combining on the back end with a clasp and the front end with a larger, purple opal with an iron design leading two larger opals down the center. Each opal was placed on top of a sharp triangular designed mark, making the entire necklace appears as sharp, shark teeth.

"Back away, Potter...the necklace is cursed." Professor Flitwick reprimanded him, waving his wand in his plump hand forward at the antique jewelry on the ground. It floated up in the air and the box followed behind it. 

"There was a hole on the side of the wrapping paper." Harry muttered to Hermione and Ron as he joined the two of them again once the professors led the way back to the castle with Leanne closely following them. 

"She must have accidently touched it when Leanne tried to grab the package from her." Hermione explained in a soft tone, looking a bit fearfully up at the arching pathway. "Harry, Ron...that package was supposed to go to Dumbledore." She added on, turning to both of them in midstep, alerting them of her racing thoughts. 

"You think someone's trying to hurt Dumbledore through a cursed necklace?" Ron asked skeptically, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. It was a bizarre thought, she had to admit, but it also seemed to fit perfectly with the scenario. Dumbledore was Voldemort's greatest adversary. What better way to wage war and win over the wizarding world than to kill the wizard that stood in his path?

"Think about it...Katie just happened to receive that package while she was out at Hogsmeade. I don't remember her having it when we were leaving the castle." Hermione told them, entertaining the scenario over and over again in her mind. It seemed to all fit into place. And while she knew it was a bit radical to think of, she could easily find a culprit to fit the crime.

"Therefore, someone must have given it to her at the Three Broomsticks." Harry quickly inputted, sending a glare behind them where the shops were still treating other students from Hogwarts. 

"Come on...Professor McGonagall will want to see us about this." Hermione sighed, urging the boys to move up the path with less patience than before, growing restless about what had just happened. Specifically, who she thought had done this terrible act.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

"You are absolutely sure that Katie did not have this in her possession before you went to the Three Broomsticks?" Professor McGonagall questioned Leanne with a grave expression across of her features. She had been inspecting the necklace as a piece of evidence in a plot greater than they had previously realized.

"As I said...Katie left to go to the loo, and when she came back, she had the package." Leanne stood tense with a frightened expression across of her features as she answered questions she had answered repeatedly over and over again. "She said that it was important that she delivered it."

"And did she say to whom?" McGonagall asked with more urgency, turning away from the cursed object to look down at the Hufflepuff student. 

"To Professor Dumbledore..." Leanne's voice perked up a bit, raising her chin to meet the professor's eyes. 

"Very well," McGonagall sighed. Her head shook in shame, looking over at the necklace once again. "Thank you, Leanne. You may go now." She dismissed the student, waving her out of the classroom. Once she was gone, McGonagall turned with a disappointed expression towards the three of them. 

Hermione nervously looked up at her professor, feeling guilt for some action that wasn't their fault. Having being looked at like how she was, it was hard not to feel guilty for some action or not. Her hands wringed anxiously together as she averted her gaze from her friends and looked her professor in the eyes.

"Why is that whenever something happens, it is always you three?" 

"Believe me, Professor," Ron muttered. "I've been asking the same questions for the past six years." His expression was sober and tense as he accidently made an almost comical remark back to their professor. He hadn't quite meant to, she knew, but she had to admit that his comments in situations like so were a sort of comical relief.

McGonagall physically rolled her eyes at him, turning her eyes to someone behind the three of them. "Oh, Severus. Thank Merlin you are here." She sighed, sending a pointed look at the three of them before gesturing the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to inspect the dark object that had stumbled upon them. 

Snape briskly sped past her, making Hermione wince slightly when his heavy cloak brushed past her shoulder. Her eyes arched over the two professor's backs as the cursed necklace was levitated in the air once again for inspection. Snape had muttered something quietly to McGonagall before setting the necklace back inside of its package. 

"She was cursed, wasn't she?" Harry questioned the professors rather bluntly, taking a step forward. His expression was hard and conflicted, trying to remain calm while the threat that was growing seemed to be getting harder and harder for him to prove. "I know Katie...she's the kindest person I've met. Off the Quidditch Pitch, she wouldn't hurt a fly." He argued against whatever protest he thought would come from McGonagall and Snape. "She must have been Imperiused or something. She would never do something like this knowingly."

"Yes, I'm afraid so," McGonagall sighed, glaring down at the necklace. 

"It was Malfoy!" Harry suddenly pointed out exactly who he thought was responsible for such an act. Hermione's eyes widened, turning to Harry with a desperate attempt to lead him away from announcing something like that. While she had her own suspicions, she didn't want to pin Malfoy under the bus. She had seen a side of him that neither Harry nor Ron had seen and felt somewhat responsible for Katie's cursed situation if Malfoy was really the one to issue the Imperius Curse. 

Perhaps it was this fact that had her feeling so much guilt. It didn't matter that her interactions with the ferret had been less than satisfactory and it had caused great stress to her and her body. She had felt that she had some insight that something like this could happen. After all, Malfoy had not only threatened her, he had outwardly insinuated that he could very much be a Death Eater. But, for some reason, she had no desire to oust him to McGonagall and Snape.

"That's a very serious accusation, Mr. Potter." McGonagall appeared shocked with Harry's words, unbelieving that no matter how vile she did happen to think of the Malfoys and their heir, that the boy could be responsible for such an action. "What proof do you have of such a claim?"

"I-I don't...I just know." Harry tried to remain strong in his accusation, but found that he couldn't quite get Malfoy in the trouble he needed to be without the evidence to back it all up. "I've seen that necklace before...at Borgin and Burkes! It kills whoever wears it. Malfoy he must have bought it. We saw him go into that store when we went to Diagon Alley."

She couldn't help but feel a bit relieved that Harry had embarrassed himself as so in front of the teachers, knowing that the consequences were severe. Perhaps...she just hoped she could do something to avert Malfoy from whatever path he was going down. But, then, Harry continued to voice his opinion of their day at Diagon Alley and a dreadful feeling overwhelmed her. What he said was a true possibility and no matter how terrible she felt about it, she knew that if Malfoy was doing something dangerous, this was the most efficient way of stopping it.

"You just know?" Snape repeated in a mocking yet, unsurprised tone. It made her cringe on the inside, growing increasingly frustrated with the unreasonable professor. He was always protecting his favorite student, yet he didn't need to make the rest of them look like idiots. "Yet again, I'm astonished, Potter, with your gifts. How grand it must be to be the Chosen One..." He spit the title out in such a tone that made her want to rip that greasy hair out of his smug head. 

"I'll have you know, Potter, that Mr. Malfoy was serving detention with me and there is absolutely no proof that he had bought that necklace from Borgin and Burkes." McGonagall sent a reprimanding glance at Snape, ushering him to the side to confront the sixth year Gryffindors. She sighed again, having done it quite often, Hermione noticed. "Now, please. I suggest you head back to your dormitories. All of you." Her hand gestured to the door, not waiting to turn away from them to have a quiet conversation with Snape.

Having been dismissed, she and Ron turned away, making their way back down the aisle between the desks. She turned her head, noticing that Harry had leisured behind, sending an obvious glare at Snape's greasy head before giving in and following behind him. 

She remained quiet as the three of them left the classroom and entered the deserted hall. She could feel the tension greatly between them and decided that she wasn't going to take it anymore. And the only way she knew how to break the sudden silence was to act in her normal, maternal way towards the two boys. "Harry! Why would you say that? You don't know that Malfoy was responsible for any of this." She shook her head. 

"I don't know..." He responded dully, finding neither energy nor motivation to argue with Hermione or show anger at the fact that she may as well be defending his sworn nemesis.

She sighed, wanting to be angry with him for what had just occurred, but finding absolutely no strength in herself to come up with something. Their day had been going quite well and this new twist had generally done terrible things for them. The events of today only furthered her task even more than before. Whatever it was that Draco Malfoy was up to, she needed to figure it out fast, otherwise someone could end up worse than Katie had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): Read and review!! Thanks guys for being so awesome!!


	9. Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the time of the First Quidditch match of the season with Gryffindor versus Slytherin, Hermione and Draco deal some things out

She knew it. It had to be true! There really was just no other explanation for what she was seeing before herself. The past few days had been filled with Hermione wandering the many winding corridors of Hogwarts castle. She climbed up a series of rotating stair cases, hid behind random alcoves, and found that her stealth had approved much since her last supposed real mission. And it was all to only end up on the seventh floor again in front of the Room of Requirement.

After all that had occurred with Katie Bell and the cursed necklace a few weeks ago, Hermione had dived into figuring out just who was responsible for such actions. Her main suspect, of course, had been Draco Malfoy. No matter how much she attempted to deny it, her mind always decided to wrap around the idea that the Slytherin Prince had been responsible. Evidence suggested otherwise, courtesy of Professor McGonagall, but she was determined to find any source of truth.

Her crusade had been a bit selfish and disattached at first, finding herself hoping that Malfoy indeed was responsible so that he may be locked away from Hogwarts and her friends. His vile attitude and personality towards her had always distinguished him as a bad guy in her eyes. His constant bullying of her in the past few years at Hogwarts had allowed such dishonorable thoughts to hit her. But, it wasn't fair for her to pit his past actions against whatever traumatic exercises he was going through now. Obviously, there was some change in him. What it was, she still did not know.

All she had wanted was to be free from his looming stares and the constant reminder of the bruise on her collar bone and wrist. He had done that and she despised him for it. Malfoy was in complete control of himself and such actions, therefore proving that he definitely had a despicable persona. It, however, gave no helpful factors in the result of him becoming a junior Death Eater. It was completely possible and she knew he wouldn't give such an opportunity up after the incarceration of his father in Azkaban.

Having undergone such an event in one's life must have been horrible. She couldn't imagine going through her year knowing that her parents were in danger or that they had been imprisoned. But, she found that she could not relate to Malfoy at all as she had next to no idea what his life was like. Their lifestyles were completely different and it did not help whatsoever in her efforts to draw him out.

Hermione's plan to draw the truth out had been set into motion with the aid of the Marauder's Map. It had been stocked away in Harry's things, ready for use, she told herself. He wouldn't mind if she borrowed the magical tool for her secretive actions for a bit. While her best friend did have a similar idea of tracking down the Slytherin, she found that he would be a little irresponsible handling Malfoy with his helping hand. It was obvious to her from the moment that Harry had made the suggestion of his childhood enemy being a Death Eater that he would not handle the situation with a clear mind.

Her adventures through Hogwarts always led her back to the Room of Requirement. By following Malfoy through his steps on the map throughout the day, Hermione could easily find out that he spent most of his hours there. After classes, it was the place that he would disappear to and remain at for hours on end. She had no idea what he was doing there, but she was keen on finding out soon. However, his activities were always blocked from her as the specific room he had suggested to the wall once he walked back and forth three times in front of that specific wall was not privy to her.

It had taken her a while to actually understand how serious his task may be. She didn't know why he had to go to the Room of Requirement to accomplish such a task, though. Perhaps he was just training with Dark Magic in the solitary room. He wouldn't be disturbed there unless there had been some loophole in his need for the room. It was possible for Hermione to figure it out somehow, but the only means of determining such an effort would be through direct confrontation and that didn't really seem to be working out for them lately.

While his task was a mystery to her, she discovered through much contemplation and a glimpse of his arm that Malfoy was indeed a Death Eater. On that particular day, she had ventured to sneak a peek, attempting to hear what he had been alerting the Room of Requirement to change into. Malfoy had his sleeves haphazardly ruffled. His pale arms had darted forward when the door had changed into its familiar iron pattern that she had seen so often last year. She found a faint trace of a black image on his left forearm. The facts had been obvious to her then. 

The immediate reaction had been the terrifying hatred that filled her every fiber. That mark...it was evil. He had chosen to take the mark, for all that she knew. He might actually enjoy having that vile image permanently printed across his arm. He had previously been unblemished, attractive even, she had to admit. Upon seeing the mark, a bitter taste settled in her mouth.

Though she had speculated greatly already on this matter, knowing that this truth could have been a possibility before, it had been harder to admit to herself. She didn't want to believe it. At that moment, knowing that she could not convince herself, Hermione felt that the only way to truly get anywhere with this information was if she had confronted the snake himself. She wanted him to confirm it for her. And if he reacted badly, which she assumed he would, she didn't know what she would do.

A nagging part of her wasn't as angry as she expected. All that Hermione could think of was how ill he looked with every parting day. Being a Death Eater was wrong for him. It was obvious with how his appearance had haggard over the past few months at Hogwarts. This granted her an ounce of hope. Perhaps, a changing factor was all he needed to forget the risks. If someone were to just offer their help to the unwilling Death Eater, then chances were higher in the Order's favor that a junior member of Voldemort's league would come to their advantage.

Now, if only she could get Malfoy alone. She knew her friends would deny her thoughts, immediately alerting every Auror that they could to have Malfoy arrested and taken to Azkaban. They wouldn't see past the Dark Mark on his arm or the arrogant façade he always presented to her and her friends. But, this was her chance to make something right. She could help Malfoy if no one else would. She would make sure that Malfoy was given the opportunity to choose.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Despite the delay in Quidditch practice, Ron could not be in a worse mood. He wasn't the type of person to get that angry about little things unless it was personal. And this situation he could definitely define as personal. Actually, Harry thought that he had never seen his friend fume up as much as he had upon exactly what they stumbled upon then. Of course, he wasn't particularly pleased either.

The fact that he and Ron had run into Ginny and Dean hiding behind a tapestry, kissing to their own heart's extent was not something he was happy about. Here, he was thinking that he had reached some new ground with Ginny, having saved her at the Quidditch Pitch and going through the most obvious ways of flirting with her. He didn't understand what she was doing now. If she was still interested in him, then why was she still dating Dean? Of course, it was selfish of him to ask her to break up with her boyfriend to be with him when they had never even submitted to the thought of the two of them being together. But...every part of him was begging him to as he stared sadly at the girl he was falling for.

He had, after all, not so long ago claimed to himself that Ginny Weasley would be his. It turned out that this task would be much harder than he had been thinking.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Ron's temper had gotten the best of him unfortunately, not allowing his sister to even give a quick explanation as to what her brother had found. It wasn't after all his business anyway, but Ron felt that Ginny had to approve such things with him. It made no sense. At this point, both red heads were sizing each other up, prepared to brawl each other in order to settle things.

As far as Ron could see, Dean Thomas was shoving his tongue down his baby sister's throat. It wasn't a pleasing sight to Harry either, but he didn't argue out loud about it to the fiery red head. "Ron, come on we should just go..." He pleaded with his best friend. While he said these things, it was really the opposite of what he wanted to do. Right now, he would have liked to join his best friend in putting Dean in his place. Although, he did have a right as the boyfriend to kiss Ginny whenever he pleased, it didn't make Harry particularly happy about it.

"No, I need an explanation as to why Dean is molesting my sister!"

"I'm surprised you even know what that word means, Ron." The snarky reply had come straight from the lips of the topic of their conversation, set with an equally terrifying glare. It was obvious just by the way her arms had settled across of her chest in the similar stance the maternal Weasley would when the children were in trouble. If he hadn't been so dragged down at the detail of her activities with Dean, Harry might have been a bit impressed with how independent she appeared to him right now. Literally, everything about her just glowed to Harry.

"Ron, really...I thought you were okay with Ginny dating me." Dean protested, his hands opening in a calm gesture, in attempt to soothe whatever hurt feelings had risen in his roommate's mind. The poor guy was trapped in a siblings' match; one that had no concern for his well being at all. It really was his fault for dating a Weasley in the first place, specifically the youngest and female Weasley.

"Yeah, dating! I saw what you two were doing!" Ron shook his head violently, sneering at his sister and her boyfriend. In his mind, having his roommate and his sister dating meant that the two would hold hands, embrace each other every so often, and merely have more conversation than friends did. What he didn't expect from them was a full blown out snogging session! One would think that after a shorter Quidditch practice, they could go to the Great Hall and relax with food at their disposal, but no! Now that Dean had replaced Katie on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, it appeared that his sister as one of the Chasers on the team would be just as eager to frolic around with her boyfriend.

"Ron, just because you haven't snogged someone that you like, doesn't mean you have to take it out on the rest of us." Ginny snapped at her over reactive brother, rolling her eyes at his attitude. She was getting irritated with his mood swings, pushing his hunched body away from her as he attempted to bring her to his side.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Ron growled, snagging his hand forward and pushing Dean away from his sister. She wrestled with him for a moment, dragging herself away from him only to run back into Harry. An expression of surprise settled across of her features momentarily as she spotted her speckled admirer. It had appeared as though she had forgotten that he was there.

"That just means that...that you are jealous that Harry snogged Cho Chang, I've snogged Dean, and Hermione kissed Krum! And you are stuck with Lavender Brown." She cut her remarks at him, not realizing what such information could do with Ron's mind.

"Wait...when did Hermione kiss Krum?" Harry muttered to Ginny, looking cautiously in the direction of his best friend. It was obvious to him that Ron was going to blow up at such news, having been particularly antsy about the fact that their only female friend had not only gone to the Yule Ball with his Quidditch idol, but had also made out with him.

"Fourth year." Ginny responded quickly, sending a nervous expression in Ron's direction as he silently absorbed what she had said. "Did you guys not know that?" Perhaps this was knowledge that Hermione had not wanted her best friends to know about. After all, why did it matter that Harry and Ron had to know about her love life. In both of their situations, actually! It didn't concern either of the boys, though she was a bit content that she had gotten the attention of Harry. She could basically see the jealously steaming up in him while she had been with her boyfriend.

"Was it really necessary to get him mad right before the match?" Harry sighed, ruffling his unruly, black hair away from his circular lenses and he waited for the tantrum that was inevitably to come from Ron. He, however, remained silent and merely glared at Ginny and Dean for a moment longer. His cheeks were red, allowing his dark freckles to blend in with his toned cheeks.

"Come on, Harry. I need something to eat before the game." Ron grunted, sending an evil stare at his sister before pushing past the three of them roughly. His temper would surely come out on another source now that he had avoided risking the release of anger on his equally tempered sister.

"You should go...calm him down before he gets reckless and makes us lose against Slytherin." Ginny grumbled, wrinkling her nose slightly as she gazed in the direction her brother had stalked off. "But, thank you for not freaking out too." She smiled slightly in his direction, gently squeezing his arm against her chest before releasing him to join Dean. Their tiny interaction however had left the other boy burning with his own set of jealousy when his girlfriend returned.

Harry could hear quick whispers being exchanged between the two of them as they drifted behind him. Their words were no longer recognizable to him as there was too much distance between them. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he made his way to the Great Hall where Ron had ran off to. Ginny really was confusing him now. One moment she was defending her relationship with Dean, and the next, she was pressing up against him. He really didn't understand what was happening.

With a deep sigh, he moved past the entrance of the Great Hall, making his way down to where Ron had settled, glaring at a confused Hermione. He could hear the vague words from his position, realizing that a fight had broken out between his two best friends.

"And what exactly is it that you want me to do about it, Ronald?" Hermione's voice was rising in volume, growing frustrated and angry at the fact that he had the decency to even bring up the topic. He first ignores her because of his issues with her going to Slughorn's Christmas party and now he was bring up her past relationships.

"I don't know. I want you to own up to what you did!" He hissed at her, gripping his hands on the side of the table as he leaned forward to make his point. This was not going to end well for either of them, Harry already knew.

"Are you being serious right now?" Hermione looked affronted, her eyes wide with rage. "Yes, I snogged Krum! You being the barmy idiot ruined my night with your accusations of 'fraternizing with the enemy' and he comforted me." She explained, attempting to salvage whatever good she could with one of her best friends as he continued to accuse her of past things.

"He comforted you." Ron mimicked her in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with anger, finally noticing Harry behind him. "Can you believe her?" He scowled, glaring at Hermione before scooting down the table to give space to Harry.

"Ron, honestly...this was two years ago. Let it go." He attempted to organize some peace between the two friends, flickering his eyes back and forth between them. "Krum's not here anymore. And besides, you have Lavender now, so everything is settled." He briskly added in, giving stern glasses to both of them. It appeared that after having tricky conversations with his two best friends for the past month, the first real conversation he was having had to be about the attraction between the two of them. One that neither would admit and was highly annoying to just about everyone.

He could hear small mumbles coming from Hermione's direction as she arched her neck in the other direction so she could snatch up a quick lunch before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Everyone would be watching this game just because it was between the two rival houses. They always were one of the more interesting matches and were more popular to come out and watch.

"Ron, drink some juice. You need to stay hydrated." Harry recommended, pushing a glass forward to his best friend. His hand cupped around the tiny vial of Felix Felicis which he had earned in his Advanced Potions class due to the help of the Half-Blood Prince.

"Oh, good luck you guys." A voice chirped up from Ron's left. The source was Luna Lovegood, dressed down completely in Gryffindor garb and a headdress that he supposed was a lion. It did have the whole mane thing, so he thought he was right. "You look dreadful Ron. Is that why you put something in his juice?" She sent a curious look in Harry's direction, gesturing to the glass Ron had put to his lips. "Is it a tonic?"

He shrugged his shoulders, allowing his friends to see the vial momentarily before sticking it into his pocket. It didn't take long for Hermione to announce her disapproval. "Liquid Luck." She breathed, glancing at his hand before flickering to the cup that Ron was hesitating with using. "Well, don't drink it." She demanded, leaning forward with a serious expression.

Ron appeared to be mulling over it for a moment, returning his gaze to the cup briefly. Just because Hermione had told him not to, he pressed his lips to the bowl of the glass and swallowed down all of the contents inside. He set the cup down with a new expression.

"Harry, you could be expelled for that." She stated with a worried tone, glancing at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He quickly butted in, shrugging his shoulders once again before returning his eyes to Ron.

Ron was stoic for a moment, smiling stupidly in front of him before he stood up from his seat and grinned at his best friends. "Come on Harry, we've got a game to win." He laughed, meeting Harry's hand in a firm shake as they both stood up from the table to go cause who knows how much trouble.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go now so we can get good seats." Luna eventually spoke up, standing gracefully. "I want to be somewhere where everyone can see that I'm supporting Gryffindor!"

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Having the winds blown so violently at her face along with the flustered emotions she was already feeling at that point, Hermione just really wasn't in the mood to watch a game of Quidditch. Be it that this game was particularly important, having been a legendary match between the two rival houses, she just couldn't stand cheering on her house's team when all she could think about was what Ron had said to her just half an hour before.

Why should she cheer for someone who seemed to despise her so much?

It really didn't make any sense to her what had happened between the two of them of late. Ron just always seemed to be so angry with her, driving so many different conclusions from absolutely nowhere. Perhaps one or two had been correct, but what did her past relationship have anything to do with him? It was none of his business what her love life was like and she was furious at the thought that he was judging her because of one kiss with Victor Krum.

"Sorry, Luna...I don't think I can watch the match any longer." Hermione apologetically informed the Ravenclaw who eagerly announced her support for Gryffindor. It made her a bit uncomfortable seeing the lion headdress on the petite blonde, but alas this was Luna Lovegood she was thinking about. Could anyone imagine Luna looking any different?

"Oh, that's alright. It might be those pesky Wrackspurts...they always float around your ears, making your brain all fuzzy." Luna was speaking in a serious tone, or as serious as her voice allowed her to sound. "I can usually see them with my Spectrespecs, but I don't have them with me right now."

"Thanks, Luna. I'm sure it's just a headache." Hermione lied quickly, shaking her head with a forced smile upon her lips. It wasn't an intention of hers to lie to her friends, but right now they only thing she could think of was getting away from the match. There was one peculiar thought that had hit her though when she searched the air for Harry before she left. As the Gryffindor Seeker, he was one of the game changers. Therefore, because they were matching against Slytherin, Draco Malfoy should have been floating around in the air with Harry. But, instead, she spotted a younger member of the Slytherin House having taken his place as Seeker.

Now, where was Malfoy?

"Just think positive thoughts and they'll go away eventually!" Luna called out to her as she turned away from the Quidditch Pitch and made her way down the wooden staircase. It took her a while to navigate her way back through the staircases that held the entire stand up around the large Quidditch Pitch. After knocking her head repeatedly along several different rows of wooden structures, Hermione eventually made it back out into open ground, hidden under the shade of the towering stands behind her. She vaguely heard the announcer call out a point, hearing a chant encouraging Ron on as the Keeper.

Her mind was racing with too many thoughts to really keep track of what was going on right now. The list went on: Ron, Malfoy, and this stupid Christmas party that Slughorn had invited her to go. She had originally been planning to take Ron to the party to keep her company but after the way that he had reacted today, she felt that he no longer deserved that privilege. It appeared that she would just have to do something extreme to get his attention. And the best way to do that was to make him angry and jealous, just like she had unintentionally done in their fourth year with Victor Krum.

What didn't fit into any of it was Draco Malfoy. He still wandered around in her thoughts, not fitting in any compartment and not allowing a solution to fit to the issue. It annoyed her beyond belief that he was such a prominent thought in her mind. He probably was mirthful at the thought that his being got a rise out of her when he wasn't even physically there.

As she meandered down the path back to the castle from the Quidditch Pitch, she made an abrupt turn towards the lake. She didn't quite feel like going back to the common room where she may run into one of her peers. Instead, she sought refuge in the small stony patch where the lake was shallow and remained out of sight from normal vision.

She walked through the tall grass and paused when she spotted a familiar head of platinum colored hair where she was aiming to go. Her eyes widened as she noticed that the object of her thoughts had just leaned back against her favorite tree, speaking words out loud that she couldn't quite hear.

She made a movement forward to sneak over there and catch any sounds that she could, but unfortunately at that moment her foot crushed loudly on a pool of rainwater and soggy ground. A loud splash rang out and she had caught the attention of Malfoy where he immediately tensed up with a hard glare. His signature sneer caught her eyes as he made a move to get away from the water and turn back to the castle.

"Malfoy, wait! Stop!" She instinctively yelled out, dragging herself forward in the mud and grass, slowing down when the patch of stones hit her feet.

"Granger, some people might find your stalking flattering, but I can assure you that it does not charm me." His cocky voice didn't have its usual malice in it. But, she was still hit hard by his characteristically familiar glare. It still shocked her to see that despite her having seen his most vulnerable side at one point, he could still so easily turn on her and return to that evil, cockroach she had always seen him as.

"You don't need to be an arse all the time, Malfoy." She hissed, not hiding the disdain she felt for him on her face. Fortunately for her, he had stopped moving and had remained by the tree instead of heading back to the castle. At least she could get one thing straight in her mind. Whereas she didn't think she would ever settle on what Ron was attempting to do, maybe she could sort out all of the Malfoy nonsense in her mind.

"Who would I be if I wasn't an arse, Granger?" He mused, raising his eyebrows. She was surprised by how he was acting with her at the moment. Did he not remember everything that he had done to her? How could he just act so casual all of a sudden?

"A nice, pleasant person who I may enjoy speaking to sometime." She sarcastically responded, rolling her eyes. "But, no. It is your absolute goal in life to just be an arse." It was true, though. She couldn't imagine Malfoy not being himself if he wasn't a bloody arse all of the time. As hard as it was to admit, acting like he did was a part of whom he was, no matter who he spoke to. It just appeared that he liked to exaggerate that factor when he was around his inferiors.

"I can guarantee you that I have other goals in my life, ones that I find you keep trying to figure out by stalking me." He again declared, a hint of a smirk growing larger and larger across of his lips the more easily he riled her up. But, she would not allow him to do this to her. She was here for a reason and she was determined to get whatever she needed from him.

"Malfoy, let's skip the pleasantries now, shall we?" Hermione broke in, sending him an icy glare as he made another attempt. "I'm positive that you probably have other things to do as well, so let's make this quick." She nodded her head, hoping he would just be agreeable for once in his life and just listen to her.

"Granger, it's you who is elongating this. So if you could hurry it along, I can stop wasting my time with you much earlier and go back to my activities." He scowled, getting quickly restless by her evasive answers.

"And what's so bad about spending a minute of your life speaking to me? Is it because I'm just a filthy Mudblood?" She responded to him sharply in a mocking tone. She hadn't originally been thinking of saying such a comment, but at that moment it seemed like the only thing she could say in the first place.

He had stilled in his movements, completely caught off guard by the sensitive topic. He had never heard her call herself that name which is why she assumed he had stalked back over to her and closed the distance between them. A sudden alertness fell on her, finding that she may have made some mistake in saying such a thing to him. But why? It was only her repeating what he said out loud whenever he spoke to her.

"Do you have a thing for being a martyr, Granger? I could imagine that the Chosen One's been rubbing off on you, but what gene has been passed through each of you pathetic Gryffindors that drives you to be so fucking dense all the time?" It might not have made much sense to her then, but Malfoy had a point. It seemed irrelevant then, though. Why was he saying these things?

"I'm not dense. I just..." She protested, slated with the confusion she felt for his rant at that moment. She was stumbling with her words, trying to figure out what he meant in all the subtext of his words. "I just want to understand."

"Understand what?" He growled, shoving her shoulder with his hand, pushing her back slightly. Her feet shuffled across of the stones on the ground. The gravel made a shifting sound as she attempted to keep herself balanced. "Why the bloody hell do you always have to know everything?" He continued.

"Malfoy, stop!" Hermione shouted out at last, unwilling to be pushed around by him anymore. While he was resorting to getting physical with her to prove his points, she knew that it was only with a similar manner that she could get on his level. "I know you're up to something...and I know you don't want anyone to know what it is. But...I want to help you." She eventually spoke her mind at last, surprising her own self as well by what she had said.

"You want to help me?" His eyes were wide with an evident emotion of shock. Had someone ever offered him help in his life before? As far as she knew, he was only a puppet to everyone else in his life, doing what everyone else wanted instead of on his own will. "Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?"

"Yes, just...just hear me out, please?" She pleaded with him. She felt that she had good intentions, but this would all turn around for selfish reasons. What he was doing could truly be a danger and if she offered her help, maybe she could stop it. Or maybe, this was all just a reason for her to truly find out if there was a side to Malfoy that she had not been aware of until that day he had so frustratedly thrown his cloak in that empty corridor.

Malfoy was silent as he glared at her, seemingly scorned by her plea to help him. The idea seemed foreign to him. "I...I don't know how to quite explain this, but...actually, I don't even know why either. I just -" Her split phrases were icily cut off.

"You were just being a bloody Gryffindor." Malfoy scowled, taking a step away from her. He seemed a bit reluctant too, though as if he had actually piqued interest in what she had to say. "I'm not going to be another charity case of yours that you just want to fix up."

"Yes, I suppose I was." She sighed, looked down at her feet in frustration. She didn't know how to say what she wanted to. "Okay, I have a point to my questions, but just bear with me, please? I promise that I can explain this to you. And afterwards you can make the decision. I won't bother you again if you don't approve." She gulped through her words, finding it increasingly hard to stay calm while she was so close to getting the answers she needed.

"And how will you know if I tell you the truth?" He asked with a stern expression.

"I don't...but I'm trusting you." She spoke the sacred words that she didn't think she would ever say to a Slytherin, let alone Draco Malfoy himself. Her breath shook a bit heavily as she noticed the intermediate nod that came from her subject.

"Alright, these activities of yours...they are time consuming, I assume?" Hermione prompted, her eyes flashing to his face. "It's why you missed the match today." She swallowed thickly, unsure of where these questions would exactly lead her. Would this result to anything? "I noticed that there was a rookie playing the Slytherin Seeker position. Well, I hope that doesn't cost the game for your benefit, but I think it's fairly evident that Gryffindor is more likely to win with Harry having up to no competition to go against..." She ranted for a moment, trailing off as she noticed the annoyed expression that settled across of his lips."Oh, sorry."

"Yes, I missed the bloody match. So what?" He hissed. "Does that mean to you that I'm up to no good trying to destroy you and your precious pets?" Malfoy positioned, grounding out the answers he assumed she was trying to get.

"No, I was just wondering." She sighed, biting down on her lips nervously. "And, and on the train to Hogwarts, you were the one to break Harry's nose?" She stated the next question, her voice picking up a sense of urgency, though she already knew the answer. She was attempting to contain his temper long enough for her to ask the small questions that lead up to the big one that preyed on her mind.

"He deserved it, the bloody idiot. I don't have to justify my actions to you." He jeered at her, flashing his darkening gray eyes at her face in a display of meager annoyance.

"You broke his bloody nose, Malfoy!" She began to get riled up from the small comment. Despite her efforts to help him, she would not allow him to taunt her best friends. No matter how mad at them she was, she wasn't a heartless backstabber. "Never mind that. Your relationship with Professor Snape is...on a very low point. He let you get away with everything for the past five years we've been together at Hogwarts. And now...all of a sudden, he's your worst enemy." She stated, prompting him to explain.

"It's not my fault that Snape has an attitude change, Granger." He derided her, finding that perhaps her change in attitude towards him was something to make fun of. She bristled at his comment, sending him a sharp glare immediately. "Really, what's the point of all of this? I know none of this is really what you want to know." He intelligently assumed, squaring his features in such a way that she knew he was trying to hide what he was thinking from her.

"I think you know what it is that I really want you to prove me wrong at." Hermione spoke in a quieter tone, looking up at with a worried expression. He could take her comment in two ways. Either, he wasn't as intelligent as she had presumed and would defensively ask her what she meant. Or, he could allow his temper to control him and take his anger out on her as he had previously done before.

Malfoy remained silent as his eyes narrowed at her. He now knew exactly what it was that she wanted to know. What could he say to her now? She had been the one to offer him her help. His alliances were already unsteady and there wasn't much he could say to her that would be honest yet deceitful. "You think I'm responsible for Katie Bell's cursed state." He calmly pointed out, though his features had darkened in anger. This was not an accusation he would take lightly as it was absolutely true and he needed to make sure that no one knew of it.

"Yes, but no. I saw it happen and as humiliating as it is to say this in front of you, I was frightened. I was scared out of my mind as to what I was seeing." Hermione admitted feebly, rubbing her gloved hands together. She felt that she looked weak under his eyes and maybe she was. But she had hope that he would accept what she had to say in the end, and it wouldn't matter that she had to embarrass herself in the process. Her humiliation was for the better of everyone else, so she would go through with it. "I've been cursed with Dark magic before in the Department of Mysteries. And it could have killed me, but that didn't scare me as much as seeing someone else under the curse of that necklace."

He remained silent, however, while she spoke and it disappointed her. She wanted a reaction from him somehow, proving to her that he really had a heart. Could he feel remorse? She didn't know for sure if it really had been him who gave the cursed necklace to Katie. It wasn't fair though. "You know...Harry accused you of giving that necklace to Katie when we were talking to Professor McGonagall and Snape. They didn't believe him. You did have a detention with McGonagall after all for slacking off in Transfiguration." She shook her head, having a hard time controlling what she was saying to him. "I don't understand. I want to believe it's not you who did it. I want to believe that you are innocent for this crime. I really wish you wouldn't be capable of doing something like that."

"And why's that?" Malfoy eventually spoke up, though his voice was a bit more strained. She could tell he was having a hard time coming up with words. It was strange for her to see him like this and it gave her the motivation to continue.

"I don't know, Malfoy. I can see you as a spoiled child that could sentence a Hippogriff to death or cast an enlargement spell on my teeth." Hermione chuckled hollowly. Her eyes were having a hard time focusing on her hands so she eventually met his eyes again to find him staring hard at her features. "But, I don't think I could ever imagine you allowing an innocent to die. I really hope you aren't capable of that."

"Granger, I could be capable of far more than that and you would never know." He suggested, not really making a case to deny what she was saying, but not accepting it either. He didn't know what was going to happen now. A big change had just occurred in the midst of a ten minute conversation. Was it truly possible to hide himself from Granger who just kept picking and picking at scabs he wished to abandon? "You know that."

"Yes, that's true. Which is why I want to help you." She nodded her head firmly, bravely meeting his eyes again as she spoke. "As bad as you seem, I know everyone has two sides. You have two sides. Please, don't deny that. I know you are capable of good things too and if you would only allow me to help you then...you could get protection. Your family could get protection." She spouted quickly at the end, risking a step forward.

His expression was blank as he stared down at her. Where his facial expression told her nothing, his eyes told a completely different story. Waves of fear and panic were the most obvious among that of hope and curiosity. She only willed that this was enough to break through to the stubborn Slytherin. "I know what you are...I've tried to deny it, but the facts are just so obvious." She sighed.

"You could be wrong." He croaked out, finding him losing his voice as he attempted to defy what she was telling him. This wasn't right. It couldn't be happening. What she was saying wasn't true and there was no one that could help him.

"I know...it's not too late, though. Whatever it is you are supposed to do, I can help you." She grounded out, crossing her arms over her chest then. She was determined to end this conversation on a high note and a new ally. "Whether it is with completing your task, or getting you out of it, I want to help you." She licked her lips nervously, wetting the dryness as a distraction to the real anxiety she felt. What if she was completely wrong and this only gave him the shove to do the exact opposite? No, she had to be right. She had searched and searched and this seemed to be the exact solution.

"I need some real proof. Not your word, Granger." He demanded eventually, gaining some more forcefulness in his voice. He was a mess, she realized. His eyes had red rims around them and purple bags on his alabaster skin. His hair hung over his eyes limply as his features seemed to hollow out over time. His lean structure was thinning by the day. If anyone wanted to learn how to lose weight, they may as well follow Malfoy's example.

"I can talk to Dumbledore...but I think he already knows." Hermione nodded her head firmly, a beacon of hope lighting up in her chest. Perhaps she really was getting somewhere now with Malfoy. Perhaps she really was given the opportunity to help him. "The Order can help you, keep you safe. Just say the word and it's all yours. You don't have to go through with your task." She watched his reaction carefully as a war played out in his mind.

These thoughts had been plaguing him for so long and the opportunity had risen to allow him to get away from the danger and risks that he had been trapped in for so long. The choice was his. He was finally allowed to make his own decision, follow his own mind and heart, instead of taking into consideration what his parents wanted him to do. He had to do what he thought was right. And while doing the right thing didn't always come easily to Malfoy, this was just one battle he couldn't give up on. The sides were clear and he knew which side would benefit him more.

"I need your help." Malfoy stumbled through the words, wincing slightly as he finally had to submit to her. Hermione was successful in her venture and she had swayed the stubborn boy. An elated feeling grew in her chest as she smiled softly at Malfoy.

"You're doing the right thing. I promise that you're making the right decision." She grinned. Through a moment of adrenalin and giddiness, she reached forward and squeezed his hand gently in hers. He remained stiff underneath the touch of her skin against him, but made no movement to back away then. "I'll inform Dumbledore about the change of events and owl you when I can." She released his hand, taking a step to turn back to the path towards the castle.

"Granger!"

She turned around at the announcement of her surname finding an uncomfortable looking boy behind her. "Yes?" Her eyebrows arched in question, wondering what else he could say now. Surely, he wouldn't turn back on what he said. Hermione sure hoped not.

"Thank you." Malfoy mumbled so quietly that she was questioning whether she had heard it in the first place. He flashed his dark eyes in her direction for a moment before turning back towards the waters of the Black Lake.

A silent grin slid on her lips as she drew her eyes up his back. Things had just made an interesting turn. She only hoped that everything remained well.  
~ ~ ~


	10. Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Dumbledore on Draco's alliances

It was reasonable to say that she was a fairly optimistic person. Of course, with the occurrences of her day, she had particular factors to be happy. It was absolutely perfect for her to have one of her problems solved. Albeit, she didn’t think that her evening would go exactly as she had planned. Never did she imagine that she might convince the Malfoy heir of joining her side. Hermione had gone out on a limb when she suggested an act of protection towards her adversary, hoping to prove her assumptions correct or failed. Now, perhaps her somewhat selfish reasons had allowed a semi-innocent boy from making a mistake that would rest on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

She couldn’t help the smile that plagued her lips. As a person, she tried her best to make sure that if one had a chance for redemption, she would strive her very best to achieve it. Malfoy definitely had room for much improvement and it would take a lot of effort, but she was ready. He would at this point try his best to make this hard for her, not appreciating the blow to his full ego at the mention of having to be helped in such a way. His pride would surely get ahead of his politeness towards her or anyone in the Order.

Her mood may have remained throughout the rest of the evening had she not entered the Gryffindor common room at exactly that moment. She had been informed of the win of her House’s Quidditch team just by the incredible noise that echoed out of the entrance of the common room. The portrait of the Fat Lady had remained quiet, attempting to work on a basket of yarn in her hands as the cheers erupted from behind her. Hermione hovered outside of the entrance, calling out to the Fat Lady to catch her attention as she busied herself from the noise.

“Quid agis, Lady.” She approached the entrance to the common room, knocking on the side of the wall to alert the lady inside. However, it didn’t take much to figure that Hermione was waiting to come inside. The other portraits were complaining loudly in the empty seventh floor corridor, pushing through each others’ portraits as they discussed the loud noises coming from the common room. Her impatience grew thin as the portrait before her ignored her outside. “Lady, please. Quid agis.”

“Wait, wait. Patience, darling…” The Fat Lady spoke in her haughty voice, picking her stubby fingers at the threads of yarn. “I imagine you would only join those inconsiderate children inside.” She huffed, her large chest raising a bit as she shifted herself around in her portrait.

“Lady, I need to get inside, please.” Hermione’s politeness was wavering as the woman inside of the portrait continued to argue with her. It was a pointless conversation and after another brief moment of bickering, she had forced her to open the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

A series of bright lights flashed in her eyes as soon as she stepped past the closing portrait. One glimpse before her revealed yet another wild Gryffindor party. Everyone was out of their minds about the victory over their greatest rival, Slytherin. Although the House’s team hadn’t even done that well for their first match, Gryffindor took the snakes’ defeat with great pride. A series of flying magical items, most likely products of Weasley Wizard Wheezes that had been banned from Hogwarts but sent through owl, darted through the air above her head. One nearly rammed straight at her chest, but seemingly made the movement and dissolved into her, coming out through her back and flying in another direction. Rolling her eyes, she eventually found her way pushing through the masses to find her friends.

At the center of the crowd, Ron was being shoved around by his fellow House mates, giving their congratulations. Pink petals fell from the ceiling, blown around by the pumping fists of the Gryffindors while fans eagerly waved a banner with their House name on it. She found herself being pulled through the wave, spotting Harry grinning as everyone patted his best friend on the back. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!” The chant grew louder. “Weasley is our king!” A random voice in the crowd burst out, allowing everyone to cheer in great excitement.

As she finally reached Harry, the crowd had only grown more excited for Ron. “You really shouldn’t have given him the Felix Felicis.” Hermione muttered to him as she could see the arrogant expression spread across Ron’s face as he thrived off of the attention he was receiving.

“Oh, so it would be better if I used perhaps the Confundus charm?” Harry smirked at her, reaching his hand inside of his pocket.

“That was completely different!” She widened her eyes, a blush spreading across of her cheeks in embarrassment. “That was try outs…this was a real game.”

Harry merely grinned at her as his hand fished around for something in his pocket. She sent him a questioning gaze as he revealed the vial of Felix Felicis in his hand. It seemed to still have the potion in it. “You didn’t use it.” She understood as her best friend shook his head. “You only made Ron think you did.”

Her eyes dragged back to the center of the crowd as her blonde roommate snatched her best friend’s hand. A look of pure disbelief spread across of Hermione’s features as Ron’s lips had now been captured by Lavender. Wild cheers erupted, cheering the pairing on in great chaos. Her chest squeezed so intensely at that moment as the two parted slightly and peered around the crowded room. At that exact moment, Ron looked up from the blonde he was wrapped up in and met her eyes.

“Looks like that Liquid Luck worked, right?” He grinned, winking at the two of them. His attention on his two friends had quickly been taken over again as he was dragged into another kiss by Lavender.

Her eyes drew down, fighting hard to keep her feelings from exploding across of her face. She had always been the type of girl to wear her emotions on her sleeve and this very event had left her vacant of any happiness she had been feeling earlier on her way up to the Gryffindor tower. Biting down on her lips tightly, she pushed her way through the crowd of people around her and away from the scene before her. She couldn’t stand to remain here any longer. Now, she just had to busy herself.

Her mind was going haywire, unable to concentrate on a single, coherent thought except for that scene that she had just witnessed. Her cheeks flamed out of anger and embarrassment. Certain jealousy pooled in her chest as she briskly moved down the corridors of the castle. She didn’t have a fixed clue as to where her feet were dragging her to, but she somehow found herself standing in front of Headmaster Dumbledore’s office. Her subconscious mind had followed the directions she had set out earlier in the day when it was a snake that had pleased her instead of what now one of her best friends was doing to her.

She had been walking for some time then, having traveled from the Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor to the third floor. A stone gargoyle hid the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, awaiting a password. “Cockroach Clusters.” She rattled off the password she had been informed of as one of the sixth year Prefects. Hermione wiped her watery eyes, reprimanding herself for even thinking of shedding a tear over such a fairytale relationship she dreamed of having with Ron.

 

The stone structure made a loud, churning noise as it turned in a circular motion. A thick stone staircase made its appearance as the gargoyle rose higher, leaving behind a path for her to climb. She rubbed her eyes thoroughly, making them sting a bit, as she hefted herself up the stairs. Her footfalls left behind an echoing sound down the hollowed corridor as she found herself in the opening of a circular office.

“Miss Granger.” A familiar voice bounded off the side of the wall as she stepped inside. Hermione continued, finding Professor Dumbledore sitting at his desk. The old man sported a pensive expression across of his features as he thumbed the notes scattered in front of him. His desk was a mess, unlike what she imagined him to be. In her mind, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was much more organized, but by the appearance of the state of the office, it proved to her that she was incorrect. “What a pleasant surprise.” His tone exposed that there really was no surprising him. In some twisted, weird way, he had already known she would come to him.

“Professor…” She greeted quietly, finding herself forgetting about what she had stumbled upon minutes before. What she needed to discuss with the Headmaster was of far more importance than the ridiculous affairs of sixth year students. “I…I wanted to speak with you about something.” She uneasily started before quickly correcting herself. “Or actually someone, that is.”

Dumbledore remained quiet as he motioned her to settle on one of the chairs strewn before his grand desk. Here were the moments she would get that proof she needed. This evidence would full proof her plan to redeem her Slytherin…acquaintance. “Continue, please, Mrs. Granger. If you are coming to me about a student, it must be serious.” He pushed away the parchment with a ruffle of his long, thin fingers. She swore she saw a flash of a blackish-gray color staining one of Dumbledore’s hands, but was not able to check again as the hand was briskly taken out of her line of vision.

“Sir, it is Draco Malfoy.” She muttered quietly to Dumbledore, meeting his eyes hesitantly. She wasn’t exactly sure what her Professor’s opinion was on the boy, but she hoped for his sake that the older man meant well. If her intentions were to follow out as planned, she needed Dumbledore to agree with her and allow some aid to come to the Malfoys.

“Draco Malfoy?” His voice was curious, although she could sense the omniscience so obviously by the twinkle in his eyes. His expression looked almost amused, waiting for her to answer all of her own questions after prompting him with them. She would find her own solutions with just a bit of his guidance.

“Yes, sir. I know he and I have never really gotten along, but this year, we have had a few strange run ins and I found myself curious.” Hermione paused a bit nervously. “As you know, Mr. Malfoy was incarcerated in Azkaban and obviously that would have much effect on Draco. As one of Voldemort’s closest Death Eaters, I thought it was fitting that his son would be the replacement.” She stated the words as best as she could into some sort of explanation.

“Miss Granger, you realize you are accusing another student of being a Death Eater.” Dumbledore spoke carefully, watching the young Gryffindor in interest. She was on the right path now, she could tell. A nagging feeling in her gut told her that her Professor already knew of Malfoy’s activities.

“Yes, sir, I know. But that’s not…” She sighed. “I’ve offered my help to Draco. Being a Death Eater had obviously torn him apart already. I’ve noticed the changes in him for the past few months and it’s eating him alive. And, knowing the type of person that he is, I fully expected him to not come to you or any other professor for any help. And it took a few attempts and a lot of heavy thinking, but I managed to convince him that our cause is the right one. Or at least, forcing him to consider it.” She explained. “He needed help, but I don’t think he knew how to get it.”

“Interesting…this is better than I thought it would be.” Dumbledore muttered to himself. He swallowed back the words quickly, turning his intelligent, kind eyes towards his student again. “Miss Granger, it is vital that such information is not passed around to your fellow peers. I know you well, and it would benefit you and the people you love much more if this news didn’t travel.” His tone was serious. “Draco is in a very precarious situation, one that I am aware of. And it pleases me quite much that you took this task upon yourself to aid the young lad.”

She was mystified by what he was saying. How could he have possibly known about Malfoy? It made no sense. And if he knew about his situation and his task, surely he knew that Malfoy was the one that administered the very curse necklace that was supposed to be delivered to him! “Professor, I don’t understand one thing. If you know what Draco is doing, why aren’t you reaching out to him? Why haven’t you stopped whatever task it is he is supposed to be doing?”

“This situation is far more complex than that, I’m afraid. Such matters, I’m sure, I can only discuss with Mr. Malfoy should he choose to indulge me. This task of his, as curious as you may be, should not be one of your concerns. I assure you, however, that he and his family will have the Order’s protection if he decides to switch sides.” Professor Dumbledore nodded his head. His hand waved and a pen dabbed itself in a container of ink. Words jotted quickly on the parchment before it rolled up into a scroll. “Deliver to Draco Malfoy. Erase to eyes besides the possessor.” He claimed before the scroll of parchment swiftly glided off out of the office and towards the Slytherin dungeons.

She had always been impressed with her professor's supreme intelligence, but sometimes she felt that there was something off about him. He had too many secrets that not too many knew of and while he was a very trustworthy man, he appeared to hide away the given information some needed. Of course, everything was for the benefit of others, but it couldn't hurt to even allow the slightest bit of news hit a person. But, alas, everything seemed to be locked away due to Dumbledore. He was an impressive man, but she feared that his secrets would be his downfall. She wasn't wrong to think that way, however, as she recalled that several people had started to doubt the elder man's judgement. Guilty feelings did appear though when she looked up at the elder man.

She was a bit hesitant as a layer of silence had fallen on the two of them. She wanted to continue asking him questions on all that would happen, specifically how Dumbledore had become such an all-knowing presence at Hogwarts. "Sir...is Draco going to turncoat now? I mean that's certainly a lot of change for him to handle. And knowing who he is for the past six years, I am certain that he will fight through it all."

Those small phrases had pulled a nice reaction from Dumbledore. He nodded his head, rubbing his long, skinny fingers across the smooth fabric of his robes. "You've certainly thought all of this out, Miss Granger." His wry grin forced a light blush to smother her cheeks. She was aware of her title as the brightest witch of their age, but being complimented by her professor outweighed any title. His praise had much more power in her than any random title given to her by her peers. "That is up to Draco to decide for himself. If he is ready for that step, yes, he could become a spy for the Order. If he is not, the Order will still shelter him,, though we will have to take him and his family should they choose to come from Malfoy Manor and take them to Headquarters. He cannot affiliate with the Death Eaters after that unless he chooses to work for us as a spy."

His last word received no reply, however, as a rough knock was heard from behind her. Hermione's eyebrows knit together in concern as the door to the office was opened by Dumbledore's will. "Come in, Mister Malfoy." Her heart involuntarily beat unlike its normal pace for a reason she didn't quite know. All she could recognize was the fact that he had satisfied her when her own friend had wronged her. It was wrong of course for her to believe that someone who was her adversary could ever do anything with her that wasn't patronizing.

The frazzled expression she had caught on to was the first thing she spotted when he had stepped through that door. His initial take of surprise was a bit concerning when it was quickly composed in to that awful sneer of his he always masked his face with around the public. A number had been made on him, she could tell, as his eyes were wide but exhausted and his hair had been ruffled greatly out of place where it had been neatly packed earlier in the day. Draco's skin looked ghastly, with purple bags forming under his eyes, appearing like given bruises rather than just lack of sleep. He looked like the undead rising again.

Hermione quickly stood up from her sitting position, having dug her palms into the wooden chair she had been previously seated in.The expected reaction from Draco wasn't one that she was particularly looking forward to. He had always been a bit impulsive and what ever reaction he gave here and now could result in a matter of two ways. He could either act out and throw one of those familiar temper tantrums that he had been so famous for when he was younger or he could submit and comply to the terms that Dumbledore had set for him. One option seemed a bit too optimistic of an expectation to have however.

It was evident that the interactions that the two of them had had earlier on in the day were not going to be a repeat as of now. His pride had surely been deterred by the fact that he had to except any aid from her. She was his adversary and that meant that in no way were the two of them ever to interact with any means besides those of Immature squabbling. The immediate response given to her by Malfoy proved any previous assumptions that she had held. It was obvious then that he was going to be difficult.

"I thought this was supposed to be a private meeting." His voice was sharp and dismissive, disliking of the fact that she was present while he would be discussing his future endeavors with the Headmaster. A cold shiver ran down her spine, bizarrely affected by his stereo typical behavior. Such reactions should not be present in her, she determined, but it was obvious that she had been surprised by his initial response.

Her mouth opened to spit out a message to him, but the moment was quickly intervened with Dumbledore standing up from his cushioned chair and bending over the table to speak to the blonde before him. "It has come to my understanding that Miss Granger here has been helping you in finding your way here."

While it may have been true, she could see that Draco was struggling with answering their professor and was reluctant to give in to the fact that she had pushed him along this path he was now taking. Perhaps, he would look at it this way and pretend that if things started to go wrong, he would just blame the entire mess on her. It would turn bad for her quickly, but perhaps psychologically, it could help the Slytherin find his own way.

"You asked for proof, and I got it for you." Hermione announced to him as he stood stoically in front of them. It was her failed attempt at being amicable to him because he had completely brushed it off to the side and sneered at her.

"You've done your role, so why are you still here?" The comment was quick and abrasive as if trying hard to get her out of there as soon as possible. She was sure that it had everything to do with the fact that he didn't want to indulge her any further in his activities. While it had been her truest intention just to find what he was up to, it seemed that his greatest motivation as of now was to just keep that information hidden from her desperate mind.

"Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger, please." The soft interjection of the familiar man's voice tempted her to continue and brush away all nice verbal conversation with Malfoy, but the good girl part of her convinced her to comply and listen to what was going to be said instead of argue. The malevolent glare on Malfoy's face narrowed in her direction proved that he was less than happy about this situation, but would relax for now.

"Now, both of you are required in this discussion now. Miss Granger will be vital to your safety once you have made your decision, Mister Malfoy." The elder man fingered his impressive wand briefly, allowing her a short glimpse of the lined structure with casual almost spherical shapes on the sides. Her eyes dipped away immediately back to Malfoy when the wand had been drawn out of sight and she understood her professor's words. "This scenario of yours is quite precarious and needs to be handled with the most delicacy." Dumbledore carefully spoke.

"My decision?" She heard Malfoy pipe up in a distracted voice. It was probably because his choice ahead involved her and that disgusted him. This was exactly the change that she had been speaking of earlier. While she could assume that he was drawing his own conclusions, it might not be as evident to him. "I'd assume that by coming to you, my decision was already made." Malfoy twisted his lips briefly, tempted to sneer at the man.

"Yes, you've decided that being a Death Eater was not the role for you, but that doesn't mean there aren't other things you still need to decide from here on out." Dumbledore intelligently reprimanded the Slytherin, nodding his head in interest. "Does this mean you will not participate in Death Eater activities or will you continue to carry out your tasks? Will you work for the Dark Lord or will you aid the Order? Would you be willing to betray everything you've known for people who would not trust you?"

His blunt words fell hot on Malfoy's ears, bringing slight color to his pale skin. Perhaps she hadn't quite thought everything out when she had offered her help to the other boy. What would he possibly do for the Order when he still held on to all of those pureblood ideals? No one was naive enough in the Order to just blindly trust him. She had told him that she was trusting him to tell the truth as it was one thing he always did with her. No matter how horrible a remark, it in itself was always the truth, just told in an unpleasant manner. His honesty was what had driven to believe he was trustworthy to some extent.

"What's first then?" His lips had flattened in discouragement, unhappy with the turn of events. There was so much more that applied to the whole situation that he hadn't quite thought of yet. He usually thought things through so well, but it seemed that the one time he should of looked over every detail, he had slacked off. Perhaps the idea of no longer having to serve that snake was just too good of an opportunity to pass up and it had rendered his mind a bit more impulsive and unreasonable to the other factors that there were. Therefore, he was now grumbling through the process.

A pleasant smile had slipped onto the old professor's lips as the young boy had agreed to move on and get the manners settled. Albeit, he had done such actions begrudgingly. "What is it that you would like to do? Leave your home and be sheltered or participate?" He asked the opinion of the other as Hermione quietly listened in on the conversation.

"I don't want to work for him anymore." Malfoy started hesitantly, shooting hard looks at her while he began. Having her there were he confessed his own wants and needs was probably embarrassing. She swallowed quickly, hiding the slight smile that started at her features. It was a serious situation, but she hadn't quite seen him like this before. "I can't go back home because he's living there with the rest of the Death Eaters if I switch sides." He shook his head.

Dumbledore seemed to mull over what had been said for a moment, but she could tell that he had expected such a response. "What if you were to be a spy? For the Order, of course. You could continue your tasks as a Death Eater so you'll be safe from any harm by the others, while exchanging information you learn there with us." He proposed.

A frown settled across of his lips as he thought through with what he had been told. "You wouldn't agree if you knew what my task was." He muttered darkly, drawing his aggressive gaze to the others in the room. If he were to complete the task given to him by the Dark Lord, the Order would be down a leader and he would surely be stripped of any so called safety from the Order. "The results of my task...I wouldn't be saved by the Order, nevertheless protected and trusted ever in the future." He argued, gripping his hands into tight fists.

"You would be surprised by what I do know, Draco, and I assure you that your task is one of those things." The look of surprise and fear passed across of the younger boy's features as he and the professor had a silent conversation between themselves. "Don't worry, I have just the plan for you and while it is a bit chaotic, I'm positive it will work. You and I will talk more of this in the future." Dumbledore reassured the boy.

An apprehensive expression glanced on his features while he was mystified by the Headmaster. "Alright...and if I were to be a spy, how long would that entail?" Malfoy questioned quickly, interjecting tight after to glide away any suspicion of his task to the female in the room.

"I suppose it would last well enough until the end of the year. You could keep your cover up as a Death Eater for the remainder of the school year, but upon the completion of your task, you will be sheltered at a safe house of the Order's along with your family should they choose to come." The explanation was clear, yet the vagueness that remained drove her mad. She didn't understand what Malfoy's task could possibly be that assured him that the Order would never accept him. They weren't that heartless and she was sure that while it would be hard for others to trust him, they would come around to it eventually. Perhaps some Veritaserum would be used, but nevertheless, the results were inevitable.

"My family? You're sure that they will be safe in the Order's hands?" Malfoy challenged immediately, standing up stilted and growing an accusatory snarl on his lips.

Dumbledore nodded his head, watching the reaction carefully. "Your mother will be alerted of your alliances through an ally of ours and should she choose to join us, I will have her join you at a safe house at the end of the year. Your father, however proves to be a more difficult task for us to accomplish. While he is imprisoned in Azkaban, it actually might be safer for him to remain there instead of coming out. He does after all disapprove of the Order."

"So, what?" He growled immediately in response, grows red in the cheeks and slamming his fists down in the table. "You're just going to leave him in Azkaban to lose his mind? He can be redeemed. He doesn't know what he's doing, he's trying to to protect us, protect me." Malfoy protested, glaring up at the older man in resentment.

"Draco...in the matter that the Dark Lord gains power, he will eventually turn back to Azkaban and release the rest of his followers. Your father would be one of them. I assure you that before then, the Order will get him out and keep him away from that influence. However, we cannot protect him forever if he chooses to not side with us." Dumbledore wisely explained to the younger boy. It came to a surprise for her knowing how fierce the relationship Malfoy had with his father. From what she knew, that bond had always been strictly tight and hard to communicate with.

Malfoy seemed to have a hard time excepting this. "He will, he will." The boy shook his head vehemently, trying to convince himself more than he was to the two others. It would be hard to convince him otherwise, knowing that despite any hardships between the father and son, Malfoy would always want to try and win his father's approval nevertheless.

"Sir, who will know about...all of this?" Hermione butted in casually during the small silence that had intervened in that time. "If Malfoy is going to be a part of the Order, shouldn't everyone in it be alerted?" The thought of it was precarious, knowing that people like her two best friends would be quite opposed to the idea that their courtyard nemesis would be joining their side after being so prickly about him being a Death Eater.

"Very good point, Hermione." Her professor nodded his head. "The one problem you will have to solve on your own is building relationships with the people in the Order. Once the battle begins, these people are the ones that you will want to have your back. Therefore, they need to trust you, Draco." The encouragement in his voice seemed to alert Malfoy that it was going to be a difficult task on head, but that he had trust that the younger boy could do it.

"Don't you think the Order is against me even speaking to their precious Potter?" The sneer on his lips as he nearly spit out her best friend's surname made her shiver. How they could resent each other to such an extent, she would never understand.

"I'm sure that your rivalry with Mister Potter might make things a bit messy, but in due time, those boys and the rest of the Order are going to be everything to you and your relationships with them will be your survival." Dumbledore intelligently answered. "I suggest that for the remainder of the year, once Hermione lets your peers know of the change, you try your best to stay amicable with them, as I'm sure they will try to be with you." There was a slight warning in the elder man's eyes, revealing that he didn't want to be disappointed in any of the three boys.

"What about this safe house we will be going to?" He asked quickly after, antsy to move on from the topic. The sudden change alarmed her and Hermione was quickly taken aback by it. Surely, getting along with Harry and Ron would be hard for Malfoy, but why was he acting so abrasive?

"As of now, I cannot disclose this information to you for the safety of those who will be living there with you. You will not know until you are apparated there on the last day of the school year." Dumbledore decided, reminding himself to recall those facts when throwing the entire plan together with his best allies. "This is all in manner of compiling, so the details need to be straightened out. Once we know more, I can give you more stable instructions on how the day will go for you."

"But, there will be others there?" She interrupted in a quiet tone, a bit apprehensive at intervening in this conversation. Her reason for being there was unknown to her, but Dumbledore had decreed her worthy enough to listen in on the conversation. A bit of her own input couldn't have hurt much. "At the safe house Malfoy will be going to?" Hermione clarified.

A subtle nod of his head alerted her that the Headmaster was agreeing with her. "Yes, there will be. Draco is not and will not be the only reformed Death Eater or person of interest that needs the Order's protection. He will be staying there for some time and this is where is Miss Granger comes in." He acknowledged her in the plan of it all.

"What do you mean, sir?" She widened her eyes, instinctively casting a glance at Malfoy. He was watching her with quiet interest, not speaking up about her future role, but not arguing about it either. He remained cool and collective, something she could not quite understand how he could do at that very moment.

"With Draco under the Order's protection this year from now on forward, he needs someone to of some sorts, be the recipient of all the new information he collects as a spy." Dumbledore submitted the information to the two of them. "That, and the fact that while my faith has been placed in you, not everyone will be as lenient. Hermione will be keeping you in check and it would do you rather well if you cooperated rather than resisted." He alerted Malfoy who had suddenly appeared uncomfortable under the Headmaster's reprimanding eyes.

"So, what exactly does all this result in now?" Malfoy interjected gruffly, sending a quick spare look in her direction that she had almost missed it.

Dumbledore's wise eyes stared down at the both of them, sending a half smile. "Well, I'd assume that you two would have to learn how to get along soon, because I'm sure you will be seeing a lot of each other from now on."


	11. Gate Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small mishap and eavesdropped conversation at the event of Slughorn's Christmas party

Coursing through a particular hectic schedule, the following weeks after her confrontation with Dumbledore had been less than pleasant. Whether it was her mind playing tricks on her or everything really did seem to be moving in slow motion around her, life had turned out to be a bit more difficult after her previous revelation. The mere fact of her being aware of such dangerous knowledge had her on the edge, worried who knew and what would happen if all hell broke loose. Who knew that associating with Draco Malfoy could cause so much trouble. 

Of course, having known for the best six years, she was prepared to settle with the harsh reality that was the blonde ferret. What caught off her guard was in fact the moody glances she accidentally received a glimpse of through passing corridors and opposite sides of a classroom. She didn't know what she expected, but being around him without being able to speak up grew more of an aggravating factor than it had been not knowing what he was up to. Ignorance really was bliss, for now she tortured herself with this new knowledge about her childhood nemesis. 

Under the instruction of Professor Dumbledore, she and him were to supposed to be exchanging intel and other such things throughout the rest of the school year. It was now his duty to confide in her of all the things that he was going through, narrowed down to the fact that all she knew was that the Death Eaters had gathered at Malfoy Manor. It appeared that he was purposely trying to give her the least amount of information as possible. Turned out though, he didn't know all that much more than she did. As of now, small little attacks were being played out by Voldemort's followers in Muggle cities as well as those areas connected to magical beings. 

One particular exchange of information had her fretting, however. She had been informed that Voldemort was hoping to sway the giants in the north to join the Dark side. This would have a terrible outcome, knowing how powerful and destructive those magical creatures were. If they were to join Voldemort in his crusade, the Order and their followers would surely crumble in defeat. Hereford, having forwarded the most recent clues to Dumbledore, she was told that someone's that great experience would be sent out soon to persuade the giants to either stand neutral or to join the Light side. 

Hermione had her own suspicions as to who it would be that was sent from the Order. It had been evident when her half-giant friend hadn't shown up at the feasts a few nights earlier. Harris had been deployed to convince his own mother and her followers to help out the Order. Hopefully, family ties were enough to get more support. But it appeared, that most magical creatures were having much difficulty in choosing a side, partly because of the greatly threatening situation they were all forced in. 

It happened that she had thanked Malfoy that day, relieved that he was giving her something actually helpful in their case. Whether he was purposely trying to evade handing information or not, he had truly aided the Order in a great defeat that might have come in the future had they not understood the full arc of swaying other magical creatures onto their sides. The only response she was given from him, however, was a passive grunt and a brisk wave of air in her face from his cloak as he slipped away into the corridor. 

Their meetings had to remain a secret from everyone, which included her best friends. Therefore, she had opted to using the Protean charm on another fake Galleon for him, allowing them to secretly communicate with one another. Whereas during the DA everyone had a coin linked to the master coin, held by Harry, she fixed this charm to allow both of them to send messages between each other in case of emergencies. Malfoy, disguising his words through an insult, had begrudgingly admitted that the idea wasn't all that bad and could be used in the future for greater purposes. 

While interactions with Malfoy had been less than amicable, Hermione seemed to get along worse with Ron. Upon the beginning of their relationship together, Ron and Lavender had become the most insufferable pair she had ever come across. She could no longer pretend to be naive and ignore the feelings she held for her best friend, finding heated emotions of jealousy in her whenever she caught sight of the two attacking each other with sings in the corridor. It drove her mad, which pushed her to be a little reckless in her next decision. 

"You’re bringing McLaggen?" The incredulous tone from Harry caused her to wince, pressing her lips together in a firm line. Regret filled her for the choice she made because of hurt, jealous feelings. Well, now that she was bringing the other insufferable prat to Slughorn's Christmas party, battle had only intensified between her and Ron. Upon having lunch in the Great Hall with Ginny, Parvati, and Padma, she had let it slip that she would be in attendance with the fellow Gryffindor that Ron despised. Her excuse had been her liking towards good Quidditch players, prompting the issue that Ron perhaps...was not. This has probably only made the situation worse. Nevertheless, she still reprimanded herself heavily for not finding someone better than Cormac McLaggen.

"Well...I didn't..." She paused for a moment, setting her eyes in a small glare in Harry's direction. The mere action seemed to give him amusement, smirking slightly up at her. It was a relief to see him a bit happier than he had been before, reforming back to his old self before the end of fifth year. "You know he's actually quite intelligent and I'm sure has great conversation." Hermione defended her decision, though she knew it was a failed cause. 

"Yeah, I'm positive he will just tell you all about his broomstick all night long." He allowed some crude humor to slip through in an attempt to rile her up. It issued him a sharp hit to the shoulder with the book she had been flipping through. "Fine, fine. You and I should have just gone together, you know?" Harry corrected himself, rubbing his shoulders slightly with his fingers with a faint smile remaining across of his lips. 

The realization that flooded her face then allowed heat to rise to her cheeks. "Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't even think of that." She apologetically shrugged her shoulder, though she began to reprimand herself greatly in her mind. "Oh, why didn't I think of you, Harry?" A small groan proceeded as she slumped back down in her seat, disturbed by what she found out. 

"Well, as much as that rejection hurts, I do need someone to go with." He fidgeted uncomfortably with the edge of his sleeves, leaning back against the bookshelf, careful not to push his weight in it too hard. Another realization hit her then. Ginny would be attending...but not with Harry, but with her boyfriend. It seemed that both of them would be attending the party with people other than whom they wished to be with. 

"Just be careful about who you ask, Harry." She warily looked up at him before searching he area around her. Spotting a small circle of girls around a beautiful girl with black hair, Hermione recoiled, shaking her head at her best friend. "I know for a fact that several girls want to go with you, particularly Romilda Vane over there. And they all plan to get you to ask them by slipping you a love potion." She rolled her eyes, shutting her book close and standing up again. "They all hate you last year and now they want you all because they think you're the Chosen One." Her lips quirked in a fashion of dislike. 

An arrogant smirk spread across of Harry's face then as mild interest alerted him of s few girls that were interested in him. "But, I am the Chosen One." He teased, squaring his lips in a grin. It didn't suit well with her, pushing her to hit him again with her book, this time right in the head. 

~ ~ ~

The evening had come eventually. As much as she wished to push time backwards, slow it down as much as she could, the hour of Professor Slughorn's Christmas party had finally been reached and Hermione was due to make an appearance on the arm of Cormac McLaggen. It had taken a lot of her nerve to not just ditch the entire event, remaining behind the closed door of her shared bed chambers. Having been the only one invited to the event, none of her roommates were experiencing the dressing up that she was to go through in order to arrive to the party in appropriate attire. Unfortunately, she was to wear something formal.

Her efforts to calm down her tangled, wild hair was difficult, but with a significant amount of Sleekeazy's hair potion on scalp and in her curly strands, she was able to calm down the unruly mess on her head in nice waves. It still felt a bit poofy around her face, therefore she clipped back the front hairs in the center of the back of her head while allowing the rest of her hair to flow freely down her shoulders and back. Very small amounts of make up were used on her face, never sure how much was enough. Lastly, the soft pink dress she wore to the event was adorned, tickling her creamy skin once she moved around. 

Cormac wasn't one to downplay such an invitation, nor did he even deem in inappropriate to rudely brag about who his date to the party would be. She suffered great humiliation as she moved through the semi-crowded common room, finding her date chortling with laughter, though he happened to not even notice her until she approached him. Already frustrated, the two of them had quickly made it out of the Gryffindor common room and proceeded up the floor where the party had begun.

Several members of the Slug Club had already convened at the location, all dressed in nice robes and fancy dresses. The party was lavishly decorated with translucent curtains dropped against the walls and in between rooms. A few students wanting to be a part of the event, though had not been invited, participated as waiters and waitresses serving drinks and snacks to their fellow peers. An embarrassed blush spread across of her cheeks as she nearly ran into Neville as he offered a glass on his tray. 

"Oh, sorry, Hermione." The apologetic tone in her friend's voice pulled a small smile to her lips. "Would you like a glass?" He continued, fixing his dark vest slightly with his unoccupied hand as he held the silver tray forward. Four clear glasses with rounded tops were available to her all filled with a golden, bubbling liquid. 

"Oh, no thank you, Neville." She shook her head. As she opened her mouth again to dive into conversation with her friend, she was punished with the unsatisfactory interruption by her rude date. Pressing her lips firmly together in a line, she forced a smile towards Neville before turning her back to him and giving Cormac her attention. "Yes?" Her inquisition was in a tight voice, flashing her eyes at him in a narrowed gaze. 

"Well, I was hoping that you would be interested in hearing about..." As soon as the conversation turned to Quidditch, her mind went blank. That was a big feat to accomplish as she was almost always thinking about something. So, it wasn't completely true. As terrible as her manners had become then, Hermione ended up basically not hearing anything he bragged about until he mentioned one comment. "Hermione, mistletoe." The observation was blunt and arrogant, pushing an instinctive abhorred expression across of her features.

"Um, oh look. Ginny's looking for me." She spit out the first lie she could think of, spotting her best female friend laundering around sort of lost before her. No one could really blame her though. And anyone could testify that Hermione was one of the worse liars, having always upheld her rule to be honest and faithful. Before he could even say another word, her eyes darted to the mistletoe hanging above them and sped off away from her date. 

As soon as she had gotten away however, her escape person shad become occupied with another. Cursing under her breath, Hermione pushed herself behind a thin veil, hoping that Cormac would just not be smart enough to come looking for her there. Fortunately, her savior had come then. Arriving late to the party with Luna Lovegood as his date, her best stepped forward in nice dress robes. Fretfully, her hands rubbed up and down her bare arms, blinking rapidly as Harry spotted her form behind the curtain and joined her. 

"What are you doing back here?" He questioned with a tease of his eyebrows, stroking the material of his robes as he glanced through the curtain at the other party goers. "What happened to you?" It was obvious that she was disgruntled hen with her pink cheeks and frazzled hair. 

To her surprise, her friend had prepped himself quite nicely for the occasion, making a great impression. It was all a part of his and Dumbledore's plot to get on Slughorn's good side and get whatever memory out of him. Having been invested deeply in her own personal business concerning Malfoy and Dumbledore, she felt guilty for not helping Harry out in his endeavors. It held probably the utmost importance considering the threat against them, but she had only heard of the old memories described to her by Harry about Tom Riddle's past life. Th most interesting thing about the memories was the discovery of the pure blood supremacist's own origins. In actuality, Harry's enemy was a half-blood like himself, with a pureblood mother who had given a love potion to a Muggle man. This changed things greatly. 

Her head had spun at the new information, convincing herself that it only helped their case more. In her efforts to sway the Malfoy heir and push him to the light side, Hermione was determined that if she spilled such news to him, his faith in his old master would quickly evaporate. Any allegiances towards the snake needed to be abolished as quickly as possible, leaving no room for him to turn back towards the Death Eaters should he ever choose to. 

Most of her indecisive feelings were due to her suspicions about Malfoy. It was possible that he was just playing them all or would pretend to be a spy for the Order, a double agent, but really end up being a triple agent by sending all further information back to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Therefore, she had settled with Dumbledore that no one would know of Malfoy's switch until the end of the year. This way there was no possible way that he could endanger anyone with the information he was given. 

Along with her confusion of times with Malfoy, she couldn't help but use her anger at Ron and take it out on the blonde. The few times they had met were infuriating and it appeared that he was purposely trying to get a rise out of her just because she happened to find some vulnerable side of him. He didn't seem to like it very much and was similarly taking his frustrations out on her through a verbal duel. Sometimes though, they had resorted to passing a jinx or charm in the peak of their annoyance with one another. 

Shaking her head, she bit back her irritation with Malfoy, allowing herself to focus back on Harry. "It's just...you know." She paused feebly, biting down on her lips as she nervously looked back out onto the party. His piercing gaze however unsettled her and pushed her to tell the truth. "Cormac tried to smog me under the mistletoe." Her confession was weak as she tucked her slowly unruly becoming hair behind her ear again. 

"I still can't believe you brought McLaggen as your date." He shook his head, though he seemed more amused than displaying any signs of irritation. A side glare was offered instead of any snarky reply back from her.

"I just thought he would make Ron the most jealous." Hermione admitted, wrapping her arms across of her chest as she looked through the curtain. An exasperated sigh followed quickly behind as the two of them spotted a broad form stomping forward. "Oh, no. Cover for me Harry." She demanded, shrugging the bottom of the curtain up and slipping through just as her date flipped sides of the curtain. 

Her quick escape from her date had not however saved her from an idle night. As soon as she had been pulled out from the curtain, Hermione was immediately approached by Ginny. A frantic expression plastered across of her features, snatching her up by the arm and pushing her away from all the noise. "Hermione!" The redhead exclaimed with her eyebrows knit furiously together.

"What, what?" Her reaction was immediate, turning towards her friend in wonder as to what had struck Ginny. "What happened?" Hermione's voice lowered, narrowing her gaze as she searched the area around them for any eavesdroppers. 

"Ugh, I haven't talked to you in forever and so much has happened. You wouldn't even believe it." Her hands brushed over her pale face, sighing frustratedly as she looked over her shoulder again at the crowd. Hermione followed her gaze, spotting her boyfriend not far behind, talking quietly with a friend of his. The small subtle glances in their direction however were not missed. 

"With who? Dean?" The muttered name was low in tone, before a realization hit her. "Harry?" She added on with widened eyes, knowing that her assumption would be correct. It had been a long time since she had known of the younger girl's liking towards her best friend. It had been a bit awkward when they were younger, but she had grown to get accustomed to the idea of the fiery girl with Harry. "What happened, Ginny?" The urgency to know was growing more great.

"Well...Dean is just becoming a nuisance. I can't stand being around him anymore. He's just so...passive." Ginny shook her head as she grit her teeth. "No, he's passive aggressive. Literally, he wouldn't let me go through the door without stepping through first. I don't know he's so damn annoying and won't let me do anything for myself, but always sinks whenever I say something like he doesn't even have an opinion." She complained with an irritated expression, huffing angrily as she crossed her arms over her chest.

The two of them conversed quickly and quietly in the crowd of Hogwarts students invited to the party as members of the Slug Club or as plus one dates. Along the many students, were elder Hogwarts graduates that had returned for the party as invitation by the potions professor. Some held titles of fame while others had incredibly history that had impressed Slughorn's back in the day. "Ginny, I think you should -" Her words were cut off quickly as the slamming noise of the front door caught her attention. 

"Get your hands off me, you filthy Squib!"

Drawing her words silently back into her throat, her gaze slipped away from her friend and towards the entry way as everyone else's eyes did. The sound of wrestling fabric alerted her ears as a heavy man struggled to drag someone in. The shadows parted and through the ten like form of the room, Filch appeared in the light with his hands gripped tightly on the back of Malfoy's. With widened eyes, she checked out the scene before her, noting each imperfection that crossed the blonde as he snatched his shoulders away from Filch. 

All eyes were on the Slytherin struggling with the caretaker of Hogwarts. The mess created now that interrupted the party held everyone's attention whom had now circled around the entry way. Whether they found this as a form of amusement or a form of genuine interest, Her joke found that she herself couldn't take her eyes away from the scene before her. 

Malfoy looked worse than the last time she had seen him. His features had paled significantly, comparing him easily to the white of snow. If it was any case, his cheeks almost looked hollow now and the exhaustion was baring down on him as he shoved Filch's hands and stood stoically before everyone, sending that hateful scowl at anyone who met his glare. Her lips parted in confusion as his head turned in her direction, meeting her gaze for a brief moment longer than anyone else before jerking his head down and fixing the messed jacket on his body, looking more ruffled than he had before. 

"Sir, I just found this boy lurking in the upstairs corridor." Filch growled, gritting his teeth together at the blonde before him. It was ironic how just last year both of them had been working together for Umbridge in participation of the Inquisitorial Squad to seek out Dumbledore's Army and rather have any power over Hogwarts. "He claims to be invited to your party." The scowling expression on the caretaker's face seemed permanent, but now, it only appeared even more prominent. 

Malfoy jerked away once again, glaring at the elder man with disdain. "Okay, okay. I was gate crashing, alright?" He admitted to Filch in front of everyone. "Happy?" Though, she knew that had been no where near what he had been doing. A pitying expression filled her features, watching the boy carefully with his next move. It was probable that he had just returned to the Room of Requirement for his daily activities. In his path of walking to and from the room, he must have been caught by Filch. Yet, another ironic fact. 

"Ay, it's alright, Argus." The potions professor tilted his head in confusion, tightening his grip on his glass as he surveyed the situation before him. The music had stopped once the interruption had caught everyone's attention, therefore, everyone paid heed to what was occurring now. The answer that Slughorn gave now would determine the mood of the rest of the evening. "Mister Malfoy may stay if he would like." The kind man held grudges, but apparently he wasn't wanting to create more of a scene in front of his club. 

But, before Filch could agree with Slughorn, the billowing cloak of Professor Snape blocked her view of Malfoy. Her head turned over her shoulder, glancing back in Harry's direction where Snape had come from. Why was he even here? The deep, intimidating voice of this year's DADA professor shook her to the bone, gluing her eyes back on the greasy man. 

"Mister Malfoy will be coming with me." Snape enunciated, having a glaring match with the blonde as they held some secret agreement between themselves. It was one relationship she would never understand. "I'll escort him out." Each syllable came out in that strange time if voice unique to Snape as Malfoy straightened his back and squared his shoulders again. 

"Certainly, professor." He nearly spit the words out in the sneer, glaring at everyone else at the party before turning his back around and slipping back away in the direction that he had come from. Her mind spun, strangled from the scene and what she knew previously. What was happening now? Surely, Dumbledore must have informed Snape of Malfoy's situation while the two of them were in such a great alliance. Having the former Death Eater and spy helping out Malfoy surely complicated things however. 

"Ah, everyone return to your drinks and fun." Slughorn attempted at returning order to the crowd, but it was mostly a failed try as the crowds of people turned into hushed circles, speaking quietly as the music returned to the room. "Carry on, carry on!"

A terrible idea struck her then as she met Harry's gaze from across the room. It was apparent that he was thinking the same thing as she was then. Yes, it was a terrible idea, but at that moment, she needed to know. Also, recognizing Harry's thoughts and repetitively stupid actions, this was obviously something he would go for. "Uh, Ginny. I think I'm just going to head back to my chambers. These parties aren't really my thing. But, uh, come talk to me later about everything." Hermione lightly reminded her friend, sending her an apologetic smile as she turned away. Spotting Harry's moving form, she hurried to the door, exiting the party without another glimpse inside. 

Drawing her eyes across the dark corridors, she heard fast footsteps right into the next hall, far away enough from the party not to be overhead. She treed quietly, nearly squeaking out in surprise when a hand cupped her bare arm and pulled her to the side of the wall. 

"Sh, it's just me." The soft, whispered voice of Harry's immediately relaxed her. She nodded her head and gestured to the next hall with her hand in the dimly lit corridor. The understanding expression on his face alerted her that he too had come out for the same purposes as her. The two of them could really get in a lot of trouble if anyone learned that they had come out to eavesdrop on Snape and Malfoy's private conversation. 

Then taps of their shoes against the floor where brisk and resounding, reaching their ears from their little hiding spot in the alcove next door. Pressed up against the side to hear any of the words exchanged, Hermione became a nervous wreck in her assumptions of what would happen to Malfoy. Soft conversation reached her ears, though most of it was incorrigible, unrecognizable to her. 

Finally, they were close enough to hear Malfoy's sharp tone of voice. "You think I hexed that Bell girl." He was defending the event, stating he was not in charge of it. "You know I didn't." As the accusation of who was the culprit seemed to easily fall on him because of Harry in their discussion afterwards, Malfoy attempted to ween off any suspicions through the greasy old man. "What's it to you?" The defensive tone of voice was evident, thrown off as an arrogant after thought as he tried to make his getaway. 

A sudden thud against the wall made her wince, noting that Snape had probably pushed the young boy against the corridor wall by his cloak and collar, forcing him to pay attention and listen to him. "I swore to protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow." The elder man drawled, though not in his usual monotone voice. It occurred to her that she might have been hallucinating, but she swore she heard a tremor of emotion in the usually emotionless man.

"I don't need protection! I was chosen for this." Malfoy hissed, pushing back against the professor. The matter was growing fiercer as the two males argued in low, sharp voices in the abandoned hall. "Out of all of us. Me." As much as Malfoy probably wished that fact was an honor, it probably was the worst thing that had ever happened to him in his life. Being chosen by Voldemort for the task he was given surely screwed him over for the rest of his life. "I won't fail him." It was an addition to his previous remarks that seemed almost hopeful, wanting to be in the snake's good terms, but also wanting to just be free from the misery he was suffering through. 

The deciding factor to the conversation however was the degrading comment that Snape mentioned to the boy next. "You will fail, Draco." 

Nothing seemed as devastating as that comment. She was assured that she would never want to hear those words to her face ever. The fact that Malfoy was told he would fail was terrifying. Snape knew what Malfoy's task was, something that she did not. If he failed...was that a bad thing or a good thing? Any task from Voldemort surely meant something sinister. 

"You're attempt to conceal it is obvious. But let me assist you -" Professor Snape hurriedly interjected, hoping to lessen the blow of the first comment. He seemed to recognize that it probably wasn't the best thing to say to the boy when he was attempting to give his aid to him. However, before his offer could even skim the table, Malfoy interrupted. 

"No!" It was a sharp, choked sound, something that surprised her. It was so similar to the sound she had heard in that corridor near the beginning of the term. Such a broken sound forced her heart to clench with unease. "I was chosen. This is my moment." The defensiveness returned in Malfoy's voice as another sound could be heard of ruffled clothing. A sharp click of his shoes echoed in her ears as he pushed off of the wall and away from Snape's hands and turned down the corridor. His brisk steps echoed hard as he nearly ran away from his problems. 

The two Gryffindors remained silent and still until the receding sound of Snape's heavy steps left the corridor. As if she had been holding her breath throughout the entire conversation between the two, Hermione exhaled deeply, her shoulders lowering in an obvious display. "I can't believe this..." She muttered, rubbing her face with her fingers. 

"It's obvious now, Hermione." Her best friend immediately began, turning to her with a disgruntled expression. "You can't deny it now, especially after that. He's obviously a Death Eater." The sudden labeling of Malfoy caused her to sharply glare up at him. There wasn't any way that she could defend him, nor did she really all that want to. But, something pulled on her heartstring, compelling her to speak up to Harry in defense. 

A singular shake of her head and a sobered expression explained her emotions about it. "Harry, please stop." She muttered, unable to be more clear about her thoughts or what was happening in the past month. "I-I have to go. Ginny wanted to talk to me about something." Her eyebrows raised slightly, coming up with the first lie she could think of. The one fact remained that she hadn't thought of though with the lie. Ginny was still at Slughorn's party while she made her excuses. 

"Hermione..." He protested, sliding off of the wall and narrowing his gaze at her. The heavy stare made her uncomfortable, looking down instead of meeting his eyes. She was feeling too guilty about keeping the secret from him. 

"Harry, I have to go do something right now...but I promise, I will explain everything to you when I get back." Hermione eventually decided, risking any alliances she had. Her best friend deserved to know especially with the threat he was against. He needed to know everything. "I promise, just wait for me in the common room." She nodded her head with a deep sigh.

A skeptical expression plastered Harry's features as he pushed the rim of his circular glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. The confusion was clear in his eyes, though he knew better than to argue with her anymore. "Just...hurry up, okay?" He eventually conceded, not particularly happy with the vague message.

Thankful with the somewhat permission she had been granted by Harry, her hands lifted up her skirts and took off in the opposite direction they had come from. She had some vague idea as to where Malfoy would be going then, but to make sure, Hermione pressed the tip of her wand to her Galleon coin, allowing a message to mold into the fake gold. In a matter of second, a burning sensation in the blonde's pocket alerted him with a message identical to the one on hers. It appeared there would be a rendezvous at the Room of Requirement in their regular setting in exactly ten minutes.


	12. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione confronts Draco after Slughorn's Christmas Party

She was nervous. According to the clock hanging on the farthest corner of the sitting room the Room of Requirement conjured for her, it had already been eleven minutes since she sent Malfoy the emergency message through the Galleon. He did not answer her, so she had very little faith in him showing up. Still, her eyes remained on the clock facing away from her in hope that he would manage to make an appearance.

In the time that Hermione waited on him to show up at their assigned destination, she took the opportunity to get a little comfortable. The room wasn’t used all that much by the two whenever they met – really just made so that they could speak in private without any others overhearing what they were conversing about. 

A long, stuffed sofa sat in the center of the room, the color a pale blue. There was a large desk on the side of the room, creaky and old, stacked with different types of books that Hermione managed to scope for during her free time. On the left side of the room, an expanse of space was wide open, easily usable for a duel. The two side walls were made out of mirrors while the opposite two were made out of cobblestone material. 

In part, the room had many uses they could take advantage of in the future should they ever need to. The spacing was enough for the two of them to ever spar or practice types of magic. Surely they could exchange knowledge on basic spells and charms used both defensively and offensively should the day ever arrive that they need to fight back. Though it partly frightened her, she knew that Malfoy was under the direct instruction of his Aunt Bellatrix, learning the different Dark Arts. There was probably some magic they could learn that opposed the dark magic their mutual enemies were familiar with.

The books that she gathered would make great use for them should they ever decide to venture deeper into spellwork. It could also potentially help them recreate the DA whenever Harry was ready for it again. The space worked for them before when Umbridge taught at Hogwarts, so it would definitely be suitable now. How ironic it was that she was now having secret meetings with Malfoy in the place he once ousted her and the other members of the DA.

Hermione sighed heavily, pacing back and forth on the matted floor. She continued to play with her wand in her hands, slipping the long limb through her fingers like a thread. In her hurried frenzy to find Malfoy, she did not even think of what she was going to say to him. So what that he made a scene at Slughorn’s party? It could certainly just pass for Malfoy being his usual prick self. It was not like anyone noticed the change in his behavior the past few months anyway. Unfortunately for him and her, it was only she who was burdened with the recognition.

When she grew tired of standing up, Hermione slouched her shoulders and took a seat on the blue sofa. The cushion sunk underneath her weight and the true comfort of the old thing evenly relaxed her into pressing her shoulders back against the adjacent cushion. Somehow, in her time waiting for Malfoy to show up, her shoulder fell forward, allowing her to lie down in an awkward position on the sofa. Her eyes managed to close, briefly flickering at the wall of mirrors before she sluggishly drifted off to sleep. 

She was jolted awake with a stiff hand poking at her. The movement was made with such harsh firmness and when she opened her eyes, she easily recognized the pale boy reaching at her from a distance. He did not yet realize she had awaken, tilting his lean form over her, but careful not to touch her with anything besides his hand. The rigid manner in which he tried to jostle her encouraged her to believe that he just did not want to contract her Muggle germs. Her lips descended into a frown, thrusting her hand forward to keep him from touching her again. 

“I’m up, I’m up,” she scowled, lifting herself up on the couch. A grimace replaced her expression, feeling a sharp cramp in her neck from her awkward position while she slept. Disgruntled, Hermione groggily bent her neck in the opposite direction she laid down in, feeling a decent pop. “Ow…” she muttered under her breath. Blinking at herself, she realized that she fell asleep in the Room of Requirement waiting for him. She was still dressed in her party clothes. The pink dress was ruffled and crinkled in areas, though it did not look as chaotic as the mess her hair had become. 

“What did you want, Granger?”

The sheer animosity and intensity in the one question surprised her. Lifting her eyes to his, she felt so incredibly intimidated by the apprehensive form before her. Was he angry with her now? She shifted uncomfortably, drawing her hands into her lap. “What time is it?” she opted to asking instead, evading his question with another one.

“Twelve forty seven,” he answered impatiently. Malfoy’s hands sunk inside of his pockets, gripping into tight fists. It was quite obvious that he had very little motivation to come and meet her. Surely what happened earlier on instigated such a sour mood. 

“Twelve forty seven!” she repeated with evident shock. “I messaged you over an hour ago, Malfoy!” Her outrage with his inability to be on time did not seem to affect him. Her cheeks were red and burning for a reason she felt she could not justify. His less than impressed expression only irritated her more. This was important! “Have I inconvenienced you so much that you can’t even show up on time? I told you it was urgent.”

“I had things to do,” he shrugged his shoulders with indifference. How he could not care about what happened earlier was beyond her. “You wanted to meet, so I’m here now. So stop wasting my time, Granger.” As usual, his feverish moods always made him more demanding in whatever he was saying. He must have already known what their discussion would be about, yet he did not churlishly remark on it. His interaction with Snape must have downplayed his overeager alpha male persona by blatantly telling him he would fail.

“What things could you possibly have to do?” she exclaimed with exasperation. “You always come here to complete your task, so what else could you possibly be doing at this time?” she accused him. It had not been her intention, but nearly all of her frustrations from the previous days were being taken out on him. Not only was she having issues with Ronald, but she felt entirely conflicted about keeping her friends in the dark about her secret rendezvous with Malfoy. He certainly did not appear to have any qualms about it, but she was being driven out of her mind without being able to tell Harry about what she learned. He was, after all, the Chosen One, so why should he not be included in such reckless behavior? Her meetings with Malfoy could potentially be a very destructive matter and she could not even surmise how to even begin explaining everything to her best friend.

“That’s none of your damn business, Granger. You’ve already stuck your nose in everything, so just fuck off, okay?” He was much more aggressive now. Something sparked in him. Anger elicited him and she was the one conflict to top it off. 

But, Hermione was not going to take any of it. Her features pinched forward in disgust and disappointment. “What the hell were you thinking? It’s like you want everyone at Hogwarts to know you are a Death Eater!” His stance was taller than hers as she stood to meet him, but she was not going to back down to him. His incompetence tonight could have gotten him caught. And if he got caught by anyone here, the news would surely be told to the Dark Lord and who knows what punishment would come from it.

His features paused in a cold, steely expression. It was the first time that Hermione came forward and actually acknowledged him with the title of being a Death Eater. Hearing her say it out loud just made the title appear more permanent, as if it was the only thing he could be. Instead of a Death Eater, he could no longer be seen as the Slytherin Prefect or one of the top students of his class. He could not be perceived as anything else other than what the horrendous title of being a Death Eater granted him. “It’s nothing to be proud of,” he growled at her.

“You can’t get caught like that,” Hermione hissed, shaking her head. “If anyone is smart, they’ll connect everything together.”

Perturbed by her words, he attempted to brush off the matter of the night. “Oh, and yeah, the only one smart enough was you, right?” he scowled.

She seemed taken aback. “That’s not what I was saying and you know it!” The more he spoke, the more she reacted. It was nice to see their usual bickering appear again as it became normal behavior for them that no longer seemed to persist when they delved into the serious business of his alliance with the Order. Therefore, Draco tried again.

“I always thought Weaselbee and Scarhead were the arrogant ones, but now I’m starting to think you’ve replaced that role,” he continued, a smirk slowly grinning on his lips. 

Disbelief spread across of Hermione’s face, very slow on comprehending what he was doing. She was beyond irritated on what happened earlier, so she did not take in account what he was doing. “Malfoy, stop. I’m being serious! Did you really think that people would believe that you were gatecrashing Slughorn’s party?”

He merely shrugged, “I’m not a part of the Slug Club. Perhaps everyone thought I was jealous.” Somehow, he did not turn out to be surprised by the assumption. His past persona would have driven such a reaction from him should he be the same person he was then. But, too much happened just this year for him to even think of such disappointing little details that he no longer thought utilized any significance. They were the last details on his mind at this point. 

She faltered, finding that he did have a fair point. But, Hermione was still paranoid. Being in charge of a secret as big as the one they were holding was taking its toll on her. She was generally a very honest, open person, so holding this to herself was proving to be very difficult. Malfoy did not seem concerned about it, but that was most likely due to the fact that his life was on the line should the secret come out. She could not hold it againat him, for she knew that when she first confronted him about his Death Eater status, he reacted wildly to her. “I am just worried,” she sighed, averting her eyes. 

Draco watched her curiously as she determined not to look at him, but instead, avoided his gaze and attention by seating herself down on the blue sofa she slept on earlier. His eyebrows furrowed with a crease, his lips folding down into a frown. Her explanation clearly perturbed him. When was the last time someone worried about him? Not in a negative way in which someone was concerned of his behavior against them, but about his wellbeing and whether something may happen to him. He didn’t know. “Look, there really isn’t any need. No one’s going to find out if you and I just stay quiet.”

He may have been more confident in what he said, but as he started speaking, he noted an expression of guilt drawing across of her face. “What? What is it?” he demanded.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, licking her dry lips wet. “Well…” she tried, finding it difficult to tell him what had happened. “When Snape and you left, I followed you out.” Her features grimaced, preparing for another outburst from him. 

“You followed me?” he repeated her. His eyes widened at that point, recalling the event which she came to overhear. His eyes trailed back down her face, venturing towards scowling down at her. She heard everything. At least Snape did not disclosed any details of what pertained to his task. It was really the one thing he still could keep a secret from Hermione at that point. Hopefully, it would stay that way. But, he did not have that much faith that it would remain a secret from her when she insisted on butting her nose in all of his business. 

“Yes, yes, I followed you,” she held her hand up to stop his dramatic flare for anger. “But, I didn’t think that Snape would be with you. I just thought you would end up coming back here. It really was not my intention to hear your conversation.” Her eyebrows furrowed and though he had every right to be suspicious of her, the genuine guilt she felt was displayed on her features. No, she was not lying. When she lied, it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

She expected a rebuttal from him. But, to her surprise, he remained quiet and pensive as he listened to her, nodding his head in an urge for her to continue. “You two started to speak and Harry came out,” Hermione began again.

“Fucking Potter was with you too?” Draco scowled, running his hand through his atypically unruly hair in frustration.

“He followed you as well and after hearing your conversation, he came to the conclusion that you are a Death Eater,” she quickly butted in, snapping in the rest of what happened in a short, brief sentence. He was clearly disappointed and angry with the news that Harry came to know his business of some sorts.

“I would think Potter was too dense to come to that conclusion.” In the wake of the news, it seemed to only comfort Draco if he ended up insulting the bane of his existence. Harry Potter needed to back out before he truly ended up dead. 

His facetious attitude concerning all that happened was beginning to drive Hermione to pull out her own hair. “Malfoy, he wants to know what’s happening! He knows that I know something.” Hermione knew her best friend well enough to assume that if she did not give a good explanation to him once she returned, he would become wildly suspicious. Not only would he use the Marauders’ Map to locate Draco’s location, but she felt that he would begin searching for her on the map as well. If he came to know that both she and his nemesis were in the Room of Requirement at the same time, she did not know how to convince him of anything else. The assumptions that he would make would be impossible to sway, therefore, the need to direct a persuasive story was growing. 

“Well, fuck, Granger. You can’t tell him!” Draco snapped, finally slipping his hands out of his pocket. He no longer stood in his typical calm stance, standing tall and lean to intimidate others. His entire presence just gave off enough to scare those he did not approve of away. Certainly, in the past few months, others were generally leaving the sulking boy alone. 

She did not know how to handle the situation before her, finding it difficult to come up with any words. He was glaring at her, that typical narrowed gaze that made her shiver in her own skin. The way that he could make her feel so uncomfortable in her own body encouraged her to be all the more resilient towards his comments. No one should make anyone feel that way, especially not Draco Malfoy. “I’m not going to lie to him. You have been too obvious. He’s smarter than you think and he was going to find out one way or another.”

“You and Potter. Just never stay in your own way. Leave me the bloody hell alone, Granger,” he growled. The intensity between the two of them in their argument was growing steadily. “Everyone is going to know that I’m a Death Eater by the time I finish my task!” The outburst was not one she was prepared to hear, forcing Hermione to fall back against the sofa cushions in surprise. 

“What do you mean? What is it that you have to do?” she asked him with increasing anxiety. The worried expression across her features was not just for what he was going to end up doing, but the fact he would be ousted to all of Hogwarts. What would become of him after his task was finished? “Just don’t complete your task then, Malfoy, please! If…if it’s going to expose you to everyone, don’t do it. Just put it off until the end of the year and by that time, the Order will have brought your parents to a safe house. And you, you can be sheltered too. You don’t have to do your task,” she pleaded with him. No, she did not know the details of the task, or what it was at all, but she knew it could be nothing good. 

“Stop asking me about this, Granger! I’ve already told you that you don’t get to know,” he scowled down at her. Despite what he said, however, he faltered for a brief moment. It was so fast that Hermione thought she hallucinated seeing the small spark in his eyes, but she knew it was there. He wanted to tell her, even if it was for only a second in time. He didn’t want to keep it to himself and wanted to confide in someone other than Dumbledore and Snape. “It’ll be fine,” he surmised, trying to convince himself more than her. “There’s a plan. Everyone just has to follow it and I’ll be at a safe house at the end of it.”

“No one in the Order is going to know you are a Death Eater before the end of the year. If you do your task, they will all know.” Hermione was having a difficult time expressing herself, drawing her hands in frustration through her hair, allowing it to fall out of the makeshift style she had made for the party. “I just…I can’t see this working. They won’t even try to believe you are with the Order. All they will see is a Death Eater after your task. Just…tell me what it is and then maybe we can tell members earlier or just…just don’t do it.”

“I don’t-” he attempted to speak, though he cut himself off in a panic. “I want this to work, I do. But…I can’t tell you. No, no…I’m not telling you. You cannot know about the task.” Draco’s features had crumbled some, though he was working hard to stay composed. He didn’t even want to think any further about the results of what he had to do. How could Dumbledore and Snape possibly ask him to continue with his task when they knew exactly what would happen?

Hermione sighed with defeat, dropping her shoulders dramatically. She was having a hard time accepting it, but she knew that she was not going to be getting it out of him anytime soon. A stunned silence sprang between the two of them with neither of them speaking up. There was nothing she could say that would convince him of anything different and he had no words to even begin explaining his task. Therefore, neither of time spoke. 

She tried to keep herself contained, but she couldn’t help but speak up when her curiosity got the best of her. “Did Snape really make the Unbreakable Vow for you?” she asked in a small, meek voice, raising her brown irises towards his stormy, gray ones.

Perhaps it was his intention to stay silent, not saying anything further to her until she grew frustrated enough that she left. It would give him the opportunity to work on his task after she was gone. Timing was always a priority and with the clock alerting him that it was past one in the morning, he knew that no one would be around the corridor. But, unfortunately for him, Hermione did speak and some part of him was compelled to answer her instead of walking out. “Yes, he and my mother made the agreement without my knowledge,” he submitted after a pause.

“Was it about your task?” she asked. He responded with a silent nod. “This only proves my point, Malfoy. It’s all too risky,” she sighed, though she knew he was not going to agree. When he threw her a hard glare, she quieted. Draco began to move around after that, not willing to look at her in the eyes after. He found himself a comfortable position on the rocking chairs not too far from the sofa, but far enough to keep Hermione from him. “He must care a lot about you then.” It was an added after thought, drawn from the idea that Severus Snape actually had a heart and cared enough about a person to make an Unbreakable Vow in the first place. “He’s willing to die if he doesn’t fulfil the agreement.”

“I suppose he does,” Draco responded in a nonchalant manner. His body twisted into the rocking chair, resting his forehead on his fist with his elbow propped up on the armrest. The idea of Snape risking his life in the case that he was not able to fulfil his task frightened Draco. Surely if he could not finish his task, it meant that Snape had to do it for him according to the Unbreakable Vow he made with his mother. It gave him all the more reason to complete his task unlike what Hermione was trying to convince him to do.

After another moment of silence, Hermione spoke up again. “Malfoy?” she asked, her voice giving insight to the hesitation she felt. 

“Mm?”

She shifted on the sofa, leaning forward with her elbows pressed against her thighs and her shoulders slouching down. “I have to tell Harry something. He…well, I kind of disappeared on him when I messaged you and I promised him an explanation when I returned,” she enlightened him on what she did. It was her earlier intention to just go ahead and tell Harry the truth, but now that she was thinking more clearly, Hermione felt that it was a very bad idea. With how irrational and reckless Harry was sometimes, she felt that he would not take the new alliance well and would surely sabotage it on accident by accusing Draco of something else. 

“Just tell him you went to talk to the She-Weasel about feminine things. Her obvious obsession with the Boy-Who-Will-Not-Die. That will shut him up right away.” Draco seemed to smirk at the idea, nearly chuckling to himself. Despite herself, Hermione could not help but smile at what he said. His narrow minded insults to Harry had long been ineffective, so it went straight on pass her. But, it was his recognition of Ginny’s childhood crush on Harry that made her giggle. 

“How do you know about that?” she quirked her eyebrows in curiosity. To get more comfortable, Hermione lied down on the sofa again, resting her head on the cushions with her bare arm tucked under her bushy hair. 

“Please, Granger. It’s the same as you and Weaselbee. Everyone knows about it except the people involved,” he scoffed, explaining the relationship to her.

Hermione appeared to think about the matter for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. “So, would that make it be like you and Pansy? I have always heard about that one.” In actuality, she was one of the few who knew the least about all the relationships at Hogwarts. If she knew any, it was likely only because she saw the two before her or Ginny was on and off gossiping about the people around them. 

“No,” Draco denied immediately, shaking his head fervently. “No, we don’t like each other.” He blinked rapidly, darting his eyes from his own hands to Hermione’s lying form on the sofa. It was astonishing to believe that he was talking to Hermione Granger of all people about the dramatic relationships of Hogwarts. This may be one of the top strangest days of his life yet. “Everyone assumes that if you have a sexual relationship with another person that you automatically like each other. Pansy is…just a friend that I’ve occasionally slept around with and that’s it.” He rolled his eyes at the matter, leaning against the rocking chair comfortably, allowing it to shift slowly back and forth in its direction.

“Oh,” Hermione frowned slightly. She had no love for sexual relationships and hearing Draco admit to one peaked a reaction from her. Her cheeks reddened some, embarrassed by the idea of sex in the first place. As a girl who did not naturally think of boys and relationships all the time, sex was still a matter that she was easily embarrassed by mentioning. She shook her head after a moment, sighing, “No, I can’t tell Harry that I’m talking to Ginny. She was still back at the party and I don’t know if he went back there or to the common room. He would know I was lying.”

“So? Why does it matter?” Draco cocked his eyebrows. “It’s just a small lie. He doesn’t need to know every single detail of your life.”

“Well, it’s not that,” she protested. “I don’t want to lie to him. I’m not a very good liar.” 

“Perhaps you should learn to be a better one, Granger. A lot is going to happen from here on out into the future and you’re going to have to be lying every single day of your life.” The reality of the situation only became clear through Draco’s words. She still could not comprehend the idea of it, frowning deeply at his answer. “You’re going to have to lie and whether others believe it will actually handle a life or death situation.”

“I told you, I’m not good at it!” Hermione shook her head in objection. “Well, someone needs to teach me then. I can’t exactly pick up a book and learn how to lie through some guide.” Her frown remained as she continue to complain about what she had to explain to Harry. Their last conversation had been rather strange, so he would have to assume something terrible was the reason for her disappearing on him. 

Draco rolled his eyes, “And that’s a typical Granger thing to do. Why don’t I just teach you? It could certainly use up time during these meetings and all. And I’m sure you’ll be suitable entertainment when you completely blunder a lie,” he offered.

“What? Seriously?” she scoffed in a mocking manner, shaking her head. When she returned her eyes to his face, Hermione found that he was serious. “You really want to give me lessons?” He merely shrugged his shoulders. “Why can’t you teach me something practical that I might actually be able to accomplish?” she whined moments later. 

“Wow! I’ve finally found something Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the generation, cannot succeed in,” he taunted her, though a small grin peeked at his lips. 

“Now, I’m being serious, Malfoy,” she groaned, sending him a sideways look. “Isn’t there anything you’ve learned that we haven’t been taught in our classes? Spells, charms, potions? Etcetera?” she proposed.

Draco appeared to ponder over it for a brief moment, though she could tell he already had an idea. Her eyebrows raised in anticipation, eager and excited to know what it was that he had learned. “Well…I’ve mastered Occlumency. That’s something you could learn, I suppose,” he suggested, though he didn’t seem too confident about her learning the matter. 

“Occlumency? So, what? You’ve been trained by your Aunt Bellatrix in that too?” her lips fell into a perpetual frown. “You know, Snape was in charge of teaching Harry Occlumency last year…to keep his mind from being open to Voldemort should they ever confront one another.” Her eyes raised to his, noticing the small grimace that appeared on Draco’s lips at the mention of the Dark Lord. Hearing his name out loud must still spark fear in him, despite having dined on a table with him in his own home. 

“Well, do you want to do it or not?” Draco proposed, annoyance prevalent in his tone. “It’s something I know that you don’t.” 

Stimulated by the obvious taunt, Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “Alright, Malfoy. Let’s do it then. Next time we meet, you can teach me Occlumency…and I can teach you how to make the Patronus Charm.” A triumphant smirk rose to her lips, content that she found a source of magic that she excelled at that she knew he did not know how to create. 

“The Patronus Charm?” Draco mused, a very predatory expression sparing his features. He was definitely interested in what she offered to him, though he had very little confidence that he would manage to make one. Had not he heard once before that Death Eaters and evil creatures were not able to conjure such a light source of magic? Dampened by the idea, Draco stood up from the rocking chair he was sitting in, approaching the side of the sofa where her head lied down on. “Alright, Granger. You and me, next time are going to be having very difficult lessons,” he smirked. With that, he continued to walking towards the door of the Room of Requirement, a wooden form carved into the cobblestone wall.

“Wait, Malfoy!” She called out to him. When he paused in his movements, turning his head over his shoulder to attend to her, Hermione stood from the sofa, unabashed by her messy image. “What do I tell Harry then?”

“Tell him that you are having a mysterious love affair with the attractive Death Eater, Draco Malfoy…something so outrageous like that and he won’t ask you what you were really doing,” he smirked. 

The haughty persona he took on in the last few minutes of their conversation surprised her, though she happened to admit that it was a nice change to hear him speak in any manner other than the belittling remarks she became so accustomed to in the past. Her cheeks turned red with a blush. “I’m not telling him that, Malfoy!” she griped with flushed embarrassment.

“Or just tell him that you are back on your menstrual cycle or something. But, I think he would more likely believe that you’re having an affair with me.” With a final smirk, the platinum haired nuisance opened the door and slipped away into the corridor, leaving her in the Room of Requirement with a fantastic blush.


	13. Confessions

Her cheeks were still glowing with the redness of a blush, embarrassed that her nemesis even had the gall to say something like that to her. The two of them – in a relationship? She could not even begin to think of how disastrous such a pairing could possibly be. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy? It seemed to be so impossible and unthinkable to even imagine such a thing. However much his comments had perturbed her, Hermione could not ignore the fleeting thoughts of her mind. He is rather attractive…but still her enemy nevertheless! But was he really her enemy anymore? They were on the same side now, both working against Voldemort. He may be a Death Eater, a pureblood supremacist, and one of the greatest bigots she met in her life, but she could not deny that despite it all, a very shallow, impersonal voice in the recess of her mind shouted out like a mantra, begging the question of who cared? He was attractive. 

Hermione shook her head with general displeasure, finding herself rather embarrassed that she could even suggest the thought of Malfoy as someone she found attractive. No, she would not allow herself to ever admit such a thing. 

Flushed and humiliated, she rose from the blue sofa and walked towards the wooden door of the Room of Requirement almost in a daze. Why had he even mentioned such a thing? They were both perfectly conversing until he ruined their flow by intentionally disconcerting her with such ridiculous words. “Bloody tosser…” she muttered, closing the door behind her. Once she heard the firm sound of the lock shutting in place, Hermione hurriedly ventured back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. She attempted to keep her presence quiet, flashing by the sleeping portraits in the corridor with quick, silent steps. By the time that she reached the Fat Lady, she was panting slightly, trying to catch her breath. 

Unfortunately for her, when she arrived, the portrait was fast asleep like all the others. It wasn’t even that late! But, she knew she was kidding herself. A short growl of frustration slipped from her lips. It was too late now and she knew that when the Fat Lady was asleep, she was nearly impossible to wake up. She was about to give up hope, turning away from the sleeping portrait when the grumbling sound of the wall alerted her. 

“Hermione?” A voice inquired from inside, opening the door just a centimeter to peer out. Her shoulders sagged in relief when she recognized it to be Harry. 

“It’s me!” She hurried forward, meeting him at the door. As her hand touched the back of the portrait, she felt a pungent sensation of dread. Her eyes caught onto the rim of his circular glasses, finding a very tired expression across of her best friend’s face. She sobered some as he opened the door wider for her to enter, holding it back as she slipped inside. “Sorry, that I took so long,” she apologized. Now, she really could not use the period excuse with him. She had been gone for longer than an hour! 

“Hermione,” he called her name, attempting to catch her attention. But, she continued to make excuses, fretting as she moved forward into the warmth of the common room. “Hermione.” She instead moved towards the couches and the lit fireplace. Turning away from him so that she could maximize the time in which she would have to give him an explanation, she stood in front of the fireplace, allowing the heat to warm herself. “Hermione!”

“Yes, Harry?” she answered eventually, sighing with feigned exasperation. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Harry demanded, raising his hand tiredly to his eyes. She could not tell exactly what time it was, but considering the last time she checked, it was rather late. The fact that Harry stayed awake for her was generous and heartwarming considering the severe lack of communication among all of her friends since their return. But, she could not help but feel mild irritation that he chose this time to show his concern for her. “It’s almost two in the morning!”

This was not the time for her to be flippant and brush off Harry’s remarks. He did happen to think that something serious was going on with her tonight concerning the manner she left him in. Her heart yearned to reveal to him what happened between her and Draco, spill all the new information that she learned through him and Dumbledore to her best friend. But, if even Dumbledore suggested not telling anyone until the end of the term, then it was probably best to hold off informing Harry of Draco’s alliance until later on. Nevertheless, she was doing a rather fine job in ushering a further restless exhibit from Harry as he awaited her answer.

“Hermione, come on! You left the party in such a rush. What happened?” Harry tried again, persisting when she did not speak up to him. 

She was struggling to answer him, pinching her lips together in an indignant gesture. Her eyes purposely avoided him, staring at the flickering colors of the fire before her, seating herself on the fluffed sofa. The furniture was soft and malleable, curving to fit her figure as she sat down. Instead of speaking with Harry about what happened, she wished to lie down, regardless of her disgruntled garb, and to fall asleep. The hour nap she happened to fall into before was making her restless and irritated. 

“It was nothing, Harry,” she sighed in upheaval, drawing herself lazily back against the sofa. “Honestly, I just wanted to get out of there.”

Harry did not seem convinced, however. “Why? Was it because of Malfoy? Because, honestly, we’ve seen that coming for some time now.”

“No!” she snapped forcefully. Her cheeks colored at the unintended tone of her voice. She protested, but Hermione did not understand why she felt so reluctant to agree with her best friend. He was right, assuming what she was doing, but she could not admit to it and knew that she must lie. It was not the right time for Harry to uncover the secret. But, really, when was the right time? Would she finally be telling Harry of Draco’s alliance when they were all in danger and Draco was forced to display his alliance to both the Death Eaters and the Order?

Her head shook again and as she lifted her gaze to Harry’s, she easily recognized the skeptical, but suspicious stare he cast occasionally on those he was slowly mistrusting. “Harry, it has nothing to do with Malfoy, I promise,” she lied straight through her teeth. A bothersome pulse throbbed at the top of her skull, discontent that she was forced to tell him another story than the truth.

“Then, what is it?” Harry beseeched, finally hinting at his frustration with her. Hermione did give him credit though, however. If she was in his place, watching her friend purposely hide something from her for some unknown reason, she didn’t know how she would react. With her need to understand and acknowledge everything that not only involved herself but everyone else, it would be very difficult for her to stand by not knowing what was happening. Her guilt only seemed to grow the longer Harry awaited her answer. 

“I’m just…with all that’s happening…your lessons, I feel the need to take some precautions,” she started, whisking words out of the recesses of her mind. She flickered her eyes wildly across of his features, hoping that she would be able to convince him well enough to evade further questioning about the endeavors of her night. Her hand shook in her lap, pleading that she could come up with something that would be plausible in Harry’s eyes. 

“Precautions? What precautions do you need?” Harry frowned, shaking his head in disagreement. “This is the safest place in the England. There’s no reason to take any precautions. The Order will handle all of it.”

Hermione sighed, “No, Harry. That’s not what I meant.” She fidgeted lightly, unable to come up with the words to create a situation. At times like these, she wished she had her parents’ creative minds, being able to conjure stories on the spot. They were always good at convincing her of other affairs when she was younger, cheering her up when she was fearful of one thing or another. Unfortunately for her, it was the one gene she had not inherited from her parents. Her head shot up almost immediately, eyes widening with sudden revelation – her parents!

“Hermione, what do you-” She quickly interrupted him.

“Harry, my parents!” she yelped, eyes widening with terror. She had not thought of it before. How could she have not thought about it before? She was so selfish, so self-absorbed! Her hands drew across of her face in despair, unable to cease the flash of thoughts spurring through her mind. Yes, precautions were needed! Her parents, her poor Muggle parents…

“What? Did something happen to them?” Harry questioned, immediately standing straight in alert. He expressed thorough confusion, though his immediate stage of thinking was the state of her parents, whether they were safe or not. His immediate reaction to her outburst was one of the very reasons she felt she could so heavily rely on him. He knew the way that she thought even if he didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, therefore they could easily mold with one another.

“Harry, they’re Muggles. What if something does happen to them?” Hermione was now thoroughly going ballistic in fear of the fate of her parents’. Would they actually be in danger with all that was happening in the Wizarding World? “There’s going to be a fight, a war, I don’t know…but they could be in danger! I need to make sure that they’ll be safe if anything happens because…” she stopped speaking, cutting herself off. She didn’t want to admit the one thing that would hurt Harry. It was the truth, but it was hard to hear sometimes. It was because of Harry being her best friend that her parents were in any possible danger in the first place. As the Chosen One’s best friend, her parents could easily be used as a form of leverage in order for Harry to comply with Voldemort’s demands. But, she could not possibly say that to him out loud. He was already feeling so much from the loss of Sirius, thinking that it was solely his fault that his godfather was dead. If it were up to him, he would think that the conflict with Voldemort that started before he was even born was his fault entirely. 

“Because of me,” Harry filled in with a resentful lilt in his tone. She cringed at it, turning her face away from him. “It’s alright, you don’t have to censor yourself with me, Hermione. I’m not going to lash out or anything.”

She stared at him with unease, knowing that what he said out loud opposed his actions in the past. But, she didn’t want to trigger him into doing as he said he would not. “Because of me, Harry. I’m their daughter, therefore, anything that happens to them will be my fault. Not yours,” she countered, staring at him with a hard glare. He could pretend like the impending war of the Wizarding World was all on his shoulders, but Hermione was not allowing him to throw a pity party just yet. He had just returned to his normal behavior and she certainly didn’t want him returning to the way he acted in the past few months since the death of Sirius. 

Harry sighed, seating himself next to her on the red and gold sofa. The common room was dark besides the flickering flame of the fireplace. The light of the flame rebounded across of their faces, allowing strange shapes to appear in shadows across of their features. Hermione lifted her legs onto the sofa, adjusting herself carefully on the cushion with her pink dress falling astray around her calves. They were both quiet for a moment, idle in the silence of the common room until Harry spoke up again.

“So, what are you going to do about it? Or what is it that you did?” Harry broached her, turning his gaze towards her. Hermione stared at him in mild confusion, watching the flame flash colors at his circular frames before understanding what he meant. It was Harry’s assumption that in the two hours she had disappeared from Slughorn’s party until showing up at the Fat Lady’s portrait, she had been doing something to fix her parents’ situation. Guilt ate at her skin, though she did not speak up for a moment to undermine Harry’s new beliefs. If that was what he was thinking at the moment, she would allow him to think that in the strange hours of her disappearances, she was out attempting to put her parents in a better situation. 

“I’m still figuring it out,” Hermione answered carefully, not wanting to give any details. Now that she had thought of the matter, she would have to deal with both Malfoy and finding somewhere safe for her parents to turn to. Stress filled her features, staring at the fireplace intently with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. “I will most likely send them out of the country. They have always wanted to travel to Australia,” she murmured. 

“Australia would be pleasant. Beaches, warm weather. Opposite of London, right?” Harry smiled softly, attempting to comfort her.

She returned the smile gratefully, but her previous mood was rapidly disintegrating. What a surprise that Draco Malfoy had been able to distract her for an allotted period of time only to be distressed while lying to her best friend. “They would certainly like it there. Perhaps they could set up a new practice in Sydney. Buy a house right on the beach and always have picnics in the sand,” she sighed, flitting away details to distract herself from what was encouraging her to move her parents thousands of miles away from home. They would not leave willingly, especially if they knew that she would be staying behind to fend a monster herself.

“That would be nice,” Harry offered, supplying kind words in order to relax her about the predicament. She was sure that he must now be thinking of doing something similar with the Dursleys. His family would surely have to move away from London where they were still living on 4 Privet Drive, among the many in danger of Death Eater retaliation just because they had affiliation with a magical being situated with the Light side.

She nodded her head silently, tearing her eyes away from the fire to look at her best friend. “Thank you, Harry.” She smiled shakily, though her mind was far too occupied by what exactly she needed to do to send her parents to safety. Creating more excuses, she said to him, “I think I better head up to my room now. I’m rather tired and you must be too.”

“Are you sure?” Harry turned, as she lifted herself off of the sofa. She could tell that he was tired and he was eager to return to his bed after such an eventful night. Nevertheless, she was actually grateful that he stayed up waiting for her. Though she had a longer list of things to worry about, he had reminded her of a very important detail in her life. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Hermione shrugged her shoulder lightly, sending him a small smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, Harry. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

~ ~ ~

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Mom might even have a sweater all knit out for you,” Ginny encouraged, requesting her presence during the winter holidays at the Burrow. A few days passed since Slughorn’s Christmas party, the week coming to an end and releasing the children from all of their classes to return home for the holidays. While Harry would be returning to the Burrow with Ginny and Ron, she would be going to London to visit her family. 

“If she does, send it to me. I’ll like it more than Ron does,” Hermione grinned. She passed the marmalade down to the ginger haired girl before taking a small bite out of the piece of toast she held between her fingers. 

“It won’t be any fun without you!” Ginny whined, cocking her head to the side with a pout on her lips to convince her otherwise. But, when Hermione raised her eyebrows quizzically, Ginny returned a cute smile. “Alright, it will still be fun, but I want you there. Fred and George are bringing back some of their little toys for testing and it would be just marvelous to see them test it out on Ron and Harry. Please, Hermione, you must come.” All while chatting her friend’s ear off, Ginny was spreading the marmalade haphazardly across her piece of toast.

Hermione sighed, setting her piece of toast down on her plate to give her attention to the situation. “Ginny…I told you already. I’m visiting my parents for the majority of the break and then I’ll come to the Burrow around New Year’s. I’m sure the twins will have just as marvelous of a fireworks display as they did last year during our OWLs,” Hermione reminded. 

“I’m still disappointed that I wasn’t there to see the beginning,” Ginny sighed, slouching her back with her arms pressing against the table before them. The year previous while she, Harry, and Ron had been taking their OWLs, Ginny was not present, being a fourth year. Being behind a year than her, Ginny unfortunately did not have the opportunity to see the display of fireworks her brothers displayed in the Great Hall where Umbridge proctored. 

“Yes, you severely missed out,” Hermione teased as she worked at her breakfast again. “But, you will most likely see an even better show on New Year’s, yeah? New and improved Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ginny grumbled, taking a moment to swallow down the rest of her breakfast with some juice. She was hurrying now, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stood to her feet. “Alright, Hermione. Time for goodbye,” she proposed, leaning forward and wrapping her in a tight embrace. 

“Bye, bye, Ginny. It won’t be too long, I promise,” Hermione vowed, putting some distance between the two of them as Ginny fixed her coat. 

“I know, I know. Have the boys said goodbye yet?” she questioned. Both Harry and Ron had met with her earlier in the common room and walked her to the Great Hall for breakfast. Speedy eaters, they both shoveled food down their throats before announcing their leave with quick embraces. She would be seeing them soon, but they didn’t express the same hesitancy that Ginny did for leaving. 

“Yeah, I got to them right before you got here,” Hermione nodded her head, squeezing her friend in a hug briefly before letting her go again. “Travel safely and write me when you get the chance,” she told her. Ginny nodded her head, rolling her eyes at the request while she moved to walk down the aisle. “And Ginny? Don’t jump on Harry.” The fiery Weasley girl grinned, winking in response to her as she sped down the line of tables to the exit of the Great Hall.

Hermione took a sufficient amount of time to finish off her breakfast once she was left alone in the scarcely populated Great Hall, wiping her fingers on a napkin briefly before getting up from the table to leave. Only a few others were still present for breakfast, the majority of the student faction having left Hogwarts already for the break. As much as she loved Hogwarts, she did not like to stay at the school during the holidays that she could spend with her family. After a long term of not seeing them since the summer, it would be nice to have some quality time alone with her parents away from witchcraft and wizardry, where she would not hear Voldemort’s name uttered once, nor would she recall that her nemesis was a Death Eater spy for the Order and that she was inherently in charge of him. 

With the expressed freedom of being detached from all things magical, Hermione was content as she traipsed down the corridor to retrieve her bags from the Gryffindor common room. While Ginny and the others would be leaving by side-along apparition with Molly and Arthur, she would be riding the Hogwarts train back to King’s Cross Station to Platform 9 ¾ where she would find her parents waiting to pick her up. At that point, Hermione felt as if nothing terrible could happen other than perhaps a cooking mishap in the kitchen for the brunch her mother prepared. 

She was very wrong, however. As she neared the moving staircases, she was interrupted in her path by Professor McGonagall. The woman was dressed in her usual drab, dark colors appearing very shriveled and small inside of her loose cloak. Her hat was placed pristinely straight on her gray hairs, pointed sharply at the ceiling. The elderly woman was tired, as evident by her frown and perpetual dark circles under her eyes. She cleared her throat and continued to speak with a very authoritarian manner to Hermione.

“Miss Granger, the Headmaster requests you visit him before you return home,” McGonagall began. By the curious stare that she received, Hermione theorized that the Transfiguration professor was not aware of what Professor Dumbledore wished to alert her of. Why she was being an audience of the Headmaster once again, she did not know. But, she suspected that it most likely had something to do with Malfoy. She continued, saying “He says that it will not take long.”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall. Thank you,” Hermione nodded her head politely. She allowed a small smile at the younger witch, reserved for the select few that she treasured as students. With McGonagall lingering to see which direction she went in, Hermione decided to return to her room to pick up her luggage before traveling back down the staircases to Dumbledore’s private office. She levitated her bags, finding that carrying them was too difficult for her to manage with their several straps and all of the steps in the stairs. Dropping the bags outside of the office, Hermione continued to enter the archway, drawing forward onto the step by the marble eagle as it rotated.

Her lips spread into a smile, prepared to step into the office to find herself solely in Dumbledore’s company, but she was unfortunate enough to find her new acquaintance laundering around the office as well. “Professor Dumbledore, you wished to see me?” Hermione asked with genuine curiosity, her eyes drawing towards Malfoy on the other side of the study. He was quiet, watching her. She noted that he had been studying the bookshelf in the office with quite some intensity before she had interrupted the silence in the office. 

“Miss Granger, yes. Please sit. You too, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore advised, looking up from the mess on his table at the two students. Hermione turned her head towards Malfoy, raising her eyebrows as if to ask if he knew what this conversation was about. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he took the seat next to her without any commentary. They were both silent, waiting for the white haired man before them to speak. “It’s break, yes?” he nodded his head towards the two, fixing the position of his spectacles on his nose. “Well, to inform you of why you both are here, I will be blunt and continue straight to the point. Mr. Malfoy needs a place to stay over the break as we have learned from his mother that the Death Eater activity in his home will be a danger to him. Miss Granger, if it is no issue to you or your family, would it be alright if Draco stays with you before the next term begins?”

Hermione stared at Dumbledore before her with wide eyes. Had the man actually gone senile? Right before her, all of her plans of spending quality time alone with her parents shattered before her eyes. She knew that Dumbledore always had a way of getting what he wanted, therefore, there was hardly any use arguing with him about the proposition he had just made. But, nevertheless, she tried anyway. “I don’t mean any offense or disrespect, Professor, as I’m sure you’ve already looked into every other possibility before turning to me, but why doesn’t Draco just stay at Hogwarts?” she asked.

“My presence has been requested back at the manor. If I stay at Hogwarts, they will know and there will be consequences,” Malfoy interrupted, stating what the conflict was before Dumbledore could answer. 

“Consequences? Well, won’t there be consequences if you come stay at my house? Nevertheless the fact that you will be staying with Muggles?” Hermione argued, frowning in both males’ direction. Surely there was some explanation for the inconvenient house visitor she was having. 

“Draco was supposed to be staying with Severus over the holiday, as that is the story Narcissa has told those staying in her home. His presence is thereby not required at the manor if they think he is with Severus,” Dumbledore intervened between the brewing arguments. 

Hermione thought about it for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. She certainly did not want Draco Malfoy staying with her in her childhood home for the winter holiday. Why was he not arguing with Dumbledore about this now? He must be disgusted by the idea of staying with Muggles! Her eyes narrowed into a glare, shooting it into Malfoy’s direction, though he happened to deflect it with an unimpressed stare. She felt immature in his eyes as if she were a child arguing about something that was so insignificant. This was important! Malfoy could put her parents in danger. This was exactly what she feared. “So, why isn’t he staying with Professor Snape, then?” she countered. 

“Severus will be out doing some errands for the Order, therefore he cannot stay with Draco at his home. Granted, we have taken the necessary precautions should any Death Eaters come to his home looking for Draco while both he and Severus are away.” The explanation seemed thorough enough and she begrudgingly knew that there was very little room to maneuver out of this situation. Who knew what her parents would think? She had never even brought Harry and Ron to her home, yet now she would be bringing Malfoy there? This was ridiculous on all kinds of levels. 

“And you are positive that there are no others that Draco can stay with?” She mentally cringed as she spoke his given name, considerately hoping that there was some way out of what Dumbledore had planned. Surely he had some friends he could stay with. She knew that he was friends with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, perhaps even Pansy Parkinson or Daphne Greengrass. There were so many other options, she knew, but Dumbledore chose her. It was entirely blasphemous and they all knew it.

“Miss Granger, think of this as a chance to learn more about your peer. I know you have a love for new knowledge, so perhaps you and Draco can take this as an opportunity to make this alliance a friendship,” Dumbledore suggested. She blanched at his words, taken completely aback. There was no way that what he suggested could ever become reality. Malfoy must not even believe that. But, he had made no motion to disagree with the Headmaster. Perhaps he had already argued about what he was being forced into, spending time with Muggles that is. 

“Yes sir,” Hermione nodded her head solemnly, devastated that she was forced to resign from the conversation. Her lips pinched together in quiet anger. Dumbledore was overstepping his boundaries now, but she knew that she was in no position to tell him to keep out. Harry and Ron would be fuming if they heard what was happening to her now. Her eyes flickered up from her folded hands in her lap almost immediately, struck by a new revelation. 

“Professor Dumbledore, I am supposed to visit the Weasleys during the break. I was going to leave for the Burrow for New Year’s,” Hermione frowned. There was no way that Dumbledore would agree for her to take Malfoy with her to the Burrow, nor did she believe that he would even want to. It was a lot asking him to come live with Muggles, but to come to the Burrow to stay with a family he had despised his entire life? That was asking far too much. Besides, no one would want him there anyway. It was not like Dumbledore would keep her from going to the Burrow during the break, right?

“I’m afraid that Draco’s alliance to the Order cannot be exposed yet. I plan to discuss with some of the senior members of the Malfoy family’s change of allegiance, but I advise you not to discuss this with your friends as of yet. I would like for Draco to remain a secret as it being common knowledge in the Order could inadvertently lead to someone in the Death Eater’s circle hearing about it. We would not want to put him in any danger, therefore, I apologize, but this is our very best course of action. I hope it does not intrude on you and your family too much,” the Headmaster bowed his head respectfully. His apology was sincere, but it certainly did not mean that Hermione had to be happy about it at all.

Hermione nodded her head quietly in agreement, frowning once again at her lap. She sighed heavily, twisting around in her seat to address Malfoy then. “Do you have all of your things then? The train is leaving soon and I would like to be there on time,” she requested. 

Malfoy finally raised his eyes from wherever he was staring off into, turning his gaze into her direction. She found herself uncomfortable with the intensity of their eye contact, feeling burned and like her personal space had been invaded by the one look. She cleared her throat, looking down at her hands before attempting to see his face again. “I have them already,” Malfoy answered coolly, raising his eyebrows at her obvious reaction.

As conclusive as Dumbledore had made the conversation, Hermione knew that this was the one and only way things were going to go this winter break. This holiday, a certain male pureblood would be coming face to face with Muggles for the first time. Muggles that just happened to be the parents of his nemesis. How he had agreed to such a thing was blasphemous to Hermione. A frustrated sigh formed on her lips as she struggled to take charge. “Alright then…we better get going then,” she muttered under her breath as she rose from her seat in front of Dumbledore’s table. 

It was one thing to have Hermione agree to such an arrangement, but a complete other thing to have her parents agree to this. They knew who Draco Malfoy was. They knew just how he had treated their only daughter. They knew many, many negative things about him. So, how exactly would they react to having their daughter’s schoolyard bully living at their home for three weeks? 

“Professor?” she broached again, turning away from Malfoy to catch the Headmaster’s attention again. The elder man lifted his eyes to his pupil, prompting her to continue. Hesitatingly, Hermione spoke, “What do my parents think of this? Have you already spoken with them?” 

“Your parents have agreed, fortunately. They are very kind folk for taking in Mr. Malfoy during such a difficult time. Miss Granger, you have very lovely parents. Please thank them for me when you see them,” Dumbledore smiled at her. It was hard to remain angry with him for what he done. That smile was of an old man that knew he succeeded in getting what he wanted, even if it was something that others did not like. It was a secret smile and while she hated him for it, she couldn’t be upset because of who he was. He was a good man and she trusted him. If he believed that this was the best path of action to take, she had to agree with him.

“That’s…nice of them,” Hermione commented, though she felt a bit uncomfortable with Malfoy’s daunting presence nearby. “Well, have a good break, Professor,” she nodded her head at Dumbledore in farewell, before turning to her fellow classmate. “Malfoy? Come on,” she gestured to him with her hand, turning away from the table towards the door with the male trailing after her silently. 

If she didn’t manage to rip her own hair out in between now until they left the castle, this would still be a very eventful winter holiday.


	14. Conversations

Her breath caught in her throat, heart racing at a fast pace as she hurried outside of the castle. Harsh panting sounded from her lips while she stared at the exit of the gates of Hogwarts to discover that the last carriage had already departed towards the train station. Feet stumbled on the leaf covered ground, slipping across all of the foliage while she despairingly looked on as the path was empty of any carriages.

  
Back when she and Malfoy had been making their way down from Dumbledore’s office, she had argued with him that they were going to be late if he continued to launder around like he was. She hastened him to move quicker with more urgency, wanting to be as far away from the castle now that she had been assigned this new task. Her mood had already dampened from her new house guest and she had believed that things couldn’t possibly get any worse.  
But, of course, she was wrong.

  
“I told you!” she cried, flailing her arms down by her side in pure contempt when she turned around to face Malfoy. “This is all your bloody fault! You sodding tosser!” She was screeching, she knew. She was taking the blame out on him when really it wasn’t completely his fault. They had been late, taking time in Dumbledore’s office and then traveling from there to the front gate. In all honesty, she should have expected to be too late to catch any of the carriages. Fortunately for them, there were no other students around to see the pair together.

  
Malfoy was calm as he casually strolled along behind her, his trunk levitating at his side while he walked. He didn’t seem to care that they missed the carriage and refused to acknowledge her current tantrum with anything other than an unimpressed stare. This only infuriated Hermione all the more.

  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she begged the question, stopping stark in front of him, refusing to let him go past her until he answered her. It was an impossible task, however, as his build was larger than her petite frame and Malfoy was easily able to move past her. Despite his massive weight and muscle lost, Draco still seemed to be in shape, just…more malnourished and bonier. The pinkness in her cheeks only flared more at his evasion, struggling to keep up her shorter steps with his longer strides.

  
“Malfoy! I am talking to you,” she spit at him, huffing with aggression as she nearly stumbled over a fallen limb. Flustered by their pace, she was struggling to keep calm and relaxed. When she finally caught up to him this time, Hermione acted upon instinct. Her hand snatched out to catch him by his left wrist, tugging him back towards her until he suddenly halted. His arm bumped back into her chest, his hand pressing against her navel as she stared up at him in surprise. It was not her intention to get this close to him.

  
Unfortunately for poor Hermione, this was an incredibly wrong move to make in the first place. The pureblood supremacist hissed at her, snatching his arm back and whirling to glare down at the short Gryffindor. “Yes, as if I hadn’t noticed that your lips were moving and words were coming out. You never stop talking.” Irritation oozed into his words. Hermione flinched back at the sharpness of his tone, drawing a step away from him as she recalculated the entire situation. Yes, this was Malfoy, the bastard, coming to play.

  
Hermione had decided only weeks before, after several meetings with Draco had already convened, that there were three different Draco Malfoys he could act as.

  
The first was the typical Draco Malfoy, the one she called the bastard. This was all about the snide and rude comments he made to rile her and her friends up. Little insults to hurt her feelings and give him that precious sense of superiority and stability that he yearned for.

  
The second Draco Malfoy was the human. Somehow, even Malfoy had turned out to be human to some degree. Deep, very deep, inside of him, there was some moral compass telling him what was right from wrong and could reflect some real emotion and vulnerability. She had only seen this side of him once back at the beginning of the term in a lone hallway with thrown robes, a color spell, and several bruises.

  
The third Draco Malfoy, and proven to be the most confusing, was the stranger. This side of Draco was the hardest for Hermione to adjust to. Never in her life did she think that she would be sitting along with him, joking about relationships and female periods. He joked with her, teased her in a way that was not insulting. Everything told her that she was hanging out with an alien.

  
His three sides together couldn’t possibly form a different boy that she had yet to meet. Draco couldn’t be person with all three of those personas warped into a single one. They were just all so different from one another that it seemed nearly impossible that the same person could be all three. Malfoy was a bastard, a human, as well as a stranger with a sense of humor.

  
Her lips pursed with frustration, staring at him with a narrowed gaze as he glared at her before continuing down the path. It was the first sight of any real emotion she had seen from him since meeting with Dumbledore. Even with the Headmaster, Draco had been perfectly stoic the entire time. This irked her, of course, because it was so atypical for him to act this way.

  
“So, that’s it? You’ve got absolutely nothing to say about this except that I never stop talking?” Hermione prompted, voice growing thicker with annoyance. There was just never knowing what his mood would be like at any time of day, which Draco Malfoy she would meet.

  
An irritated Draco Malfoy was not one to be trifled with. The blonde turned in his tracks again, this time being the one to wrench her wrists. The movement was harsh and rough, much like he had acted physically with her earlier on in the year. Hermione gasped, breath catching in her throat as she was nearly into his side. She squeaked out in surprise, eyes wide open towards his face. Why had he done that? He answered her when he hissed, “Move along, Granger. We’re going to miss the fucking train because of you.”

  
She growled, yanking her wrist away from him, but not completely pulling away. Hermione proceeded to act on instinct. Their physical touches were growing, something that had never been a thing between the two of them before. A punch to the nose could hardly count. Everything they ever did to oppose one another had a lack of any physical contact, yet it appeared that it was all that the two of them were doing now. Hermione pushed his shoulder, growling at him while her mane like her made her resemble a Gryffindor lion all the more.

  
“Answer me, Malfoy!” she scowled, stalking past him with a slam of her shoulder against his. It hurt her a lot more than it was meant to hurt him, something that really sucked, but she had already done it. Regretting her try at being aggressive, she scurried forward, leaving him behind with her luggage floating in the air in her tread.

  
Draco, now, took on a similar appearance to her. Haggard from the activities of the week, he was growing quickly exhausted. A break was exactly what he needed, away from the cabinet. But, living with Granger would only punish his deranged mind even more. A similar scowl appeared across of his features as he stalked after her, easily able to match her pace and then gain distance on her.

  
“Granger, why can’t you just fuck off? Leave something be for once in your pathetic existence,” Draco scoffed, kicking the dirt with his shoe unintentionally as they were nearing an area in the path where the sound of the train came from.

  
“No,” she grounded, refusing to look in his direction. “You’re Draco Malfoy. And you’re coming to my house. Where my Muggle parents live. This is not right. You cannot be okay with this!” Hermione continued to fight, throwing her arms to her side in frustration as he too refused to give her the agreement that she so clearly wanted to hear.

  
Draco turned his glare on her, narrowed, gray eyes making her only feel all the more uncomfortable in his presence. “Of course, I’m not fucking okay with this!” he scowled, gritting his teeth together. A pureblood like him among Muggles? And not only that, but Hermione Granger’s Muggle parents? This was all going to be a disaster, he could already tell.

  
But, imagine all that this could do for him. While he was currently feeling waves of disgust rule his mind, his skin was crawling with both fear and anticipation. What was being among Muggles really like? He never knew for he had never seen them, only heard about them. Well, that wasn’t completely true. He had seen the parents of Muggleborns at Diagon Alley upon chance, and there wasn’t even all that much differentiation from wizards and witches besides their state of dress. Yet, he couldn’t help but categorize them very differently in his head due to the fact that they did not have magic. And now, he was going to be living with Muggles. How was any of this supposed to help him?

  
Draco had an idea. This would all benefit him in the long run, would it not? By staying with Muggles, Draco could build himself up. A reformed Death Eater needed some credibility and reasons to be trusted among a group of people that despised him for the majority of his life before even getting to know him. Of course, he was guilty of doing the same in regards to several of the members. Nevertheless, living with the Grangers could build his reputation and give him a good source so that he would not be seen as threatening towards the Order. Perhaps this would allow him and his family to be accepted. Not that he cared for any of those bloody wankers’ approval or anything…but Dumbledore was right about one thing that he had said earlier. If he stuck to this side, the Light side, he would need all of these members to trust him and have his back once the fighting began. Everything was connected in some way, therefore, his actions now would reflect what would happen to him in the future.

  
“You’re not saying anything…what the hell is it with you and every fucking body else that won’t just tell me what the hell is going on?!” Hermione groaned, spitting out fire because of her thrashed nerves. The poor girl’s plans were all ruined by this turn of fate and she wasn’t particularly happy by the outcome.

  
Hermione’s words stopped Draco in his angst filled train of thought. “Did you just say fucking?” he questioned her. It sounded foreign coming from her mouth, one that he was assured she washed with soap daily to make sure she didn’t curse in front of everyone. Curse words were not supposed to be a part of her vocabulary. He nearly chuckled at how flustered she was now, more so amused by her appearance and behavior than he had before.

  
She was beginning to pinken in the cheeks now, turning to stare at him with incredulous eyes. That is what he got from what she said? Nevertheless, she was too embarrassed by her choice of words. Laughing silently to himself, Draco turned back around and proceeded forwards towards the looming train. Smoke was billowing out the top and Hermione could see that, fortunately, people were still boarding their luggage and their pets on the train, giving them enough time to join.

  
“It’s not funny!” she protested.

  
“I’m just saying…out of all people, you are the one left out of the supposed loop?” Draco mustered a smirk in her direction, all signs of previous irritation having sunken away from his features. “I’d say it’s the opposite actually. You happen to be the most informed out of all the Order members your age. Even Potty doesn’t know as much as you do.”

  
Hermione stared at him with surprise spreading in her eyes. “Well – yes, but…that’s not what I mean! I meant something completely else, and you know it. I just want to know…why you’re acting like this. It’s disturbing me,” she confessed.

  
“It disturbs you that I’m calm and relaxed while you screech like a banshee?” Draco prompted while raising a single, angular eyebrow on his forehead. Hermione seemed to huff again at this, though she begrudgingly nodded her head in answer. “Well, Granger, some of us haven’t the maturity of toddlers like you and your little pals. Some of us are grown up and have learned which fights to fight. I wasn’t going to win this one, so why bother fighting it. My feelings about any of it will not be taken into consideration, because it does not matter. This is strictly business and it’s going to stay that way.”

  
Hermione was taken aback by what he disclosed. She had not expected such an answer from him. Actually, she hadn’t expected an answer from him at all. And…what an answer it was. Ignoring the fact that he proceeded to insult her, a habit of bastard Malfoy, she actually took the opportunity to understand what he was saying. “Strictly business…” she echoed him in a quieter tone as they approached the train from the pathway in the woods.

  
Shaking her head, Hermione perked up for a moment, “Just…it’s my house, Malfoy. They are my parents. They aren’t some random Muggles that you can act like yourself around.” She paused before continuing. “They are my parents. Just like I know how protective you can get about your parents, I am the same way about mine. So, please, don’t act like yourself around them. Just…be nice. Just because they aren’t magical doesn’t mean they aren’t human like you,” she explained to him with a sincere look. She wasn’t meaning to make him look bad, but, rather, just wanted him to understand that the way he was with some people just couldn’t work with people like her parents. He might be privileged in the Wizarding World because of his family name and status, but in the Muggle World, specifically in her family home, she was the privileged one. Malfoy was already stepping on hot stones with her parents due to the things they already knew about him from when she sent tear stained letters to her parents after he mercilessly bullied her. For his own sake, Hermione hoped that he behaved.

  
“I’m not some wild ruffian, Granger. I actually have manners, you know. That, among many other means of etiquette that I’m sure you’ve never had to suffer through.” Malfoy had a serious expression placed across of his features as they approached the side entrance of the Hogwarts Express. “Don’t worry, Granger. I’ll be on my best behavior.” However, he said this with a smirk and Hermione could read into it in so many ways just because of how ambiguous he made himself sound. Oh, dear god, she absolutely despised him sometimes!

  
Huffing, Hermione did not sound so sure. But, she supposed that she would have to trust that he would behave for the entirety of his stay with her family. Her mind was already spinning. What was she even supposed to do with Draco Malfoy living at her home?

  
Dazed by this idea, she hadn’t even realized that Draco had already pushed his trunk into the baggage area and had taken hers and stacked it nearby his own. Surprised, she looked over at him skeptically, but he merely turned away from her and climbed on into the train through the closest entrance. Perturbed, she stared at their close baggage for a moment longer before following him up into the train.

  
Shuffling forward through the aisle, she noted that Draco had already found a seat among other Slytherins. In his company was his two supposed best friends, Blaise and Theo, but she knew that he hadn’t seen either of them often when he was preoccupied with his Death Eater task. Idly standing by, she searched the nearby compartments for where her own friends might be hiding out. As she passed by Draco and his friends, she found a compartment with Luna and Neville sitting inside. Relieved, Hermione quickly exited from the aisle of the train and joined her two friends on the benches.

  
“Is that the new Quibbler edition, Luna?” Hermione asked, seating herself down by the lovely blonde, scanning the material over her shoulder. The girl was always reading or passing out her father’s magazines, nodding animatedly when others skeptically noted the topic of the issues – strange creatures that only the Lovegoods seemed to know about. Hermione supposed that it was an endearing quality about her friend, if it was one that someone needed to get used to over time.

  
“Yes, Hermione. Would you like to read it?” Luna offered, tugging the side of the report so that she could take it. Hermione shook her head no with a smile, turning her eyes out the door of their compartment where she could just barely spot the pale hair of Draco Malfoy. As she stared curiously, she heard Luna speak up again.

  
“Hermione? Did you walk down here with Draco Malfoy?”

  
Alarmed, Hermione turned her eyes towards her friend, blinking rapidly as she stuttered to come up with an explanation. Hermione was rather running on no ground trying to figure out what to say. But, Luna beat her to the chase.  
“Oh, it’s alright. I talked with Draco before too. He’s very nice. Said he might want to join Dumbledore’s Army,” Luna informed them in her typical airy voice.

  
Skeptical, Neville shook his head with a small smile to correct her. He only believed that Luna was mistaking Draco Malfoy for someone else when, in reality, Luna was clearly thinking about her last conversation with him and how he had behaved with her. “Luna…this is Draco Malfoy we are talking about. He helped get the DA caught last year. There’s no way he would ever want to join. Nor would we accept him,” he shook his head with a scoff. Just by the expression on Neville’s face, Hermione could already tell how difficult it would be to convince everyone in the Order that Draco had switched to the Light side. And Neville was one of the nice ones. What was she supposed to do when Harry and Ron found about Draco’s switch of allegiance?

  
“No, we should accept Draco. I think he would fancy our help. I think I’ll help him. Hermione is already helping him, aren’t you, Hermione? That’s why you left Slughorn’s party, right?” Luna continued to speak her mind, casually stating the truth when Hermione was so clearly trying to hide it from them.

  
“Luna, no! That’s…that’s not what happened at all! I’m not…we have nothing –” Hermione struggled to come up with a response. Luna had truly stumped her and she couldn’t figure out a way to cover her tracks. Instead, she turned her eyes to Neville, someone who she felt couldn’t know about Draco’s allegiance just yet, and subtly shook her head. Essentially, she was saying that Luna must be making things up, confused by her Nargles or something.

  
Silently protesting, Hermione stared at Luna with an open mouth. Luna merely smiled at her, “It’s alright, Hermione.” Her pale hand reached up to her shoulder and assuredly stroked her. “I understand,” she followed, watching her with that knowing glimmer in her eyes.

  
Pressing her lips together, Hermione grew slightly frustrated that Luna refused to elaborate at all. What exactly did Luna know? Or think that she knew?

  
~ ~ ~

  
Slumping down in his cushioned seat next to Pansy, Draco did not say anything to his three friends sitting around him. Things had changed between this group of friends, something he had yet to notice. If he had been paying attention, he might have seen the looks exchanged by all three. Blaise and Theo were muttering something to one another, sitting closely on the other side of the compartment. Pansy’s lips were pursed while she stared at her quiet friend. But, Draco had not said a thing to any of them yet.

  
“Draco,” she finally prompted, shifting in her position so that she could face him. “We…we haven’t seen you in a while,” Pansy subtly alluded to his long term disappearances. The last few times that they had all run into one another, Draco was being reclusive away from people who might genuinely care about him. But, he would never know that they felt that way because he refused to talk to any of them about anything.

  
“I’ve been busy,” Draco started in a mutter, turning his stormy gaze towards the others for the first time. He realized a tension among his friends, as if all waiting for Draco to snap in half out of intense pressure or something. Perhaps this encouraged him to speak. They were his friends, after all. He didn’t need to tell them anything. But, why not at least try to find some normalcy in all the chaos that was his life by reuniting with his old friends?  
His eyes drifted from Pansy to Blaise and then to Theo. A frown appeared across of his features. “Weren’t you two dating?” Draco bluntly asked, gesturing in between Pansy and Blaise. “And where’s Daphne?” he followed up, lifting his head to scan the surrounding compartments. When he turned to look behind him, he noticed there was Granger with Loony Lovegood and Sneville Longbottom in a compartment just a little bit down the aisle. He quickly turned his eyes away from her, returning to his friends.

  
“Daphne went home early,” Pansy started, her voice peculiarly higher when she mentioned their female friend. An uncomfortable glance between the two boys and Pansy irked him, glaring obviously at them as they struggled to answer him. “Well…Blaise and I broke up,” she hesitantly started, looking over at him with her tense shoulders shrugging slightly. They didn’t know what to say to him as much as he didn’t know what to say to them.

  
“Broke up? Weren’t you just telling me not long ago to not fuck with you because you found someone ‘oh so good’?” He was acting snide and he knew it, but the confusion he felt at being around the people he once felt so comfortable with, but now was having difficulty speaking to, was very great. Overwhelmed by this, he clamped his jaw, awaiting their explanations.

  
“We weren’t right for each other,” Blaise piped up, staring at his former best friend with a narrowed gaze. At this time, Blaise was leaning back against Theo while his other friend had draped his arm casually around the back of Blaise’s seat. The two looked rather comfortable with one another, sharing looks and whispering comments to one another while Draco confusedly stared at the two of them. What the hell was going on?

  
It was Theo’s turn to place his input. “Pansy cheated on Blaise with Daphne and while that really turned Blaise on that his girlfriend was fucking another girl, he’s too monogamous and holy to stay in a relationship with her. Isn’t that right, friends?” Theo was smirking. If any one thing seemed even the slightest bit normal, it was Theo and his typical behavior. His lean, dark haired friend was exactly as he always was with a slaying of a sharp tongue, teasing comments, and sexual innuendos.

  
An exasperated look on Pansy’s face gave all the inclination that Theo was telling the truth, albeit in the most inconsiderate manner. “Theo, you’re an asshole,” she scowled, crossing her arms over her chest and learning back against her seat. “Yes, Daphne and I had sex, but that’s not the reason we broke up,” she protested.

  
“Oh, sorry, I missed that part, didn’t I?” Theo teased, raising his eyebrows while he mockingly smirked at all of them. It was Theo’s time to shine now and he had voluntarily taken the spotlight. “Miss Pansy Parkinson has come to admit that she’s not as stick straight and stiff as a penis!” At this, Pansy groaned, throwing her gloves in her lap at the grinning boy.

  
“You’re a lesbian?” Draco raised his eyebrows, staring back at his childhood friend in surprise. He would have never thought that Pansy would be sexually attracted to her own gender. Had she ever seemed uninterested when he was having sex with her? He didn’t think so. Confusion touched his features, trying to discern her behavior and make note of any interactions with her that gave him any inclination that she wasn’t interested in males.

  
“No, no! I’m not lesbian. I-I don’t know what I am…” she muttered slowly. Pansy was still trying to discern her own sexuality. There were so many different titles, which one fit her? While all of her friends stared at her, prompting to give an answer, she instead scowled back at each boy. “I don’t have to explain myself to any of you! It’s a personal matter, so it’s none of your fucking business!”

  
Knowing that she felt attacked, Draco only smirked while leaning back in his seat to inspect Miss Pansy Parkinson. What a surprise! He hadn’t expected anything like this. Turning his gaze towards the two boys across of him, Draco prompted Theo, “And you? How curvy is your penis?” He said this knowing very well of Theo’s own experimental ways. He might have never come out and said anything to any of his friends about his own sexuality, but Draco was always an observational one ever since that one incident last year before everything went to shit.

  
Merely one look at Theo’s face recalled that moment so long ago. It almost even brought a hesitant smile to his lips. It was smirks and teasing insults like these that prompted whatever had occurred between himself and Theo back in fifth year. Draco leaned back against his seat with a reminiscing smile while he recalled what happened.

  
_“I’m upset, Draco! You’re supposed to be my friend and help me out,” Theo whined, pacing back and forth in front of his bed where Draco had been casually lying back on. The tall brunette looked distressed with pink cheeks and ruffled hair, courtesy to his restless hand pushing through his locks repeatedly._

  
_“It’ll all roll over soon, Theo. There’s nothing to be worried about. You know Potter’s a fucking liar,” Draco shrugged his shoulders, throwing a small ball up in the air again before catching it in his palm._

  
_“Draco, stop! He’s back, you know that he’s back,” Theo emphasized urgency in his voice. “Hasn’t your father said anything? His mark must be acting up too. What if they’ve already met You Know Who?”_

  
_Draco dropped the ball, letting it roll aside before sitting up and narrowing his gaze towards his friend. “Stop, Theo. You’re heading into very dangerous territory,” he warned in a low voice. But, Theo continued to pace back and forth in front of Draco, until the blonde boy reached forward and snatched his arm. Theo halted in his steps, abruptly jolting into a stance in front of Draco on the bed._

  
_Theo was obviously shaken, staring at one of his best friend’s with wide eyes. He couldn’t seem to comprehend what he was thinking or what he was just about to do. Somehow, Theo equated the seriousness of the situation and the environment to something completely else. Before Draco could react at all, Theo had lurched forward, capturing Draco’s cheeks in his hands and forcing their lips together to fashion a kiss._

  
_He couldn’t believe his thoughts. Theo’s lips were warm, soft to caress his own. His chest was throbbing with a new pain of surprise and anticipation. Draco’s hands hesitantly touched Theo’s midriff as if to push him away, but he instead halted in his movements and kept him in a steady hold. Theo was nearly shaking against Draco, pulling and tugging at his lips to satisfy his current carnal desire for his best friend._

  
_It wasn’t fast like Draco thought it would be, for the two of them to understand what would happen and pull away. Instead, both boys hung onto each other for what was most likely a moment too long. There was too much meaning behind it. And with the way the two acted afterwards, it was like nothing had ever happened._

  
Theo’s face told it all. He didn’t need to say anything for Draco to confirm. Usually, Theo was quite impressive in hiding his face behind masks, but this obviously surprised him. Of course, being asked by a boy he once was in love with if he was gay had the potential to be a shock.

  
Draco’s own features calmly stared at him, though he was so obviously probing Theo to confess or just about do anything to express and embrace his true sexuality. It was nothing to be embarrassed about, he thought. Even he, a lad that strongly desired the lovely curves of a woman’s breasts or arse, had to admit that his own gender did not fail to attract him.

  
“You fucking wanker,” Theo scoffed, eyes blazing with displeasure. Draco only smiled, bordering now on even acting cheeky. His friends seemed surprised by this, staring in between the two boys as if there was something going on there that Pansy and Blaise did not know about. Draco reveled in the fact that he had a secret to hold over Theo that the others did not know of. Though, a part of him recognized that even if he informed the other two, it would do a lot more damage to himself than it did to Theo.

  
“Draco, what about you? Think your cock is completely straight?” Pansy averted the tension she sensed between the boys. Even though Draco seemed perfectly amused, Theo was a bit uncomfortable.

  
“Actually, Pansy, no. I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head about it, though. I think I’ve curved a few times, but clearly that’s between me and whoever…curves me,” Draco responded with undertones that pinkened Theo’s cheeks. Fortunately for the brunette, neither Pansy nor Blaise caught onto what was happening between Theo and Draco. The blonde, satisfied, smirked at his friend and the embarrassment he was feeling.

  
“Okay, enough of this, alright? Merlin, you’re all hormonal sex fiends just all the damn time!” Blaise huffed, glancing in between the three others with a questioning look. Out of all four, Blaise was clearly the most confused. Draco nearly felt pity for his usually astute friend, the one that claimed to know him better than he knew himself. Things had obviously changed between them to invalidate that claim.

  
“I’m going to take a nap,” Pansy announced, sighing as she looked at all of them. The three boys obviously stressed her out sometimes and she needed breaks from them often. Of course, going home didn’t always mean a break, but rather the opposite in terms of family.

  
“That sounds like a good idea. We should all just sleep. Night,” Theo quipped, narrowing his gaze towards Draco for a moment before nodding at Blaise and attempting to show his fortitude by closing his eyes and resting his head against the glass of the window.

  
Draco knew what this meant though. Sooner or later, Theo was coming after him for insinuating what happened between them and wouldn’t hesitate this time to confront the situation instead of ignoring it like they had before. This was exactly what Draco needed right now.

  
~ ~ ~

Throughout the rest of the train ride to London, Hermione had drifted off to sleep on her side of the compartment. Sleepily saying goodbye to Luna and Neville, Hermione yawned while she slipped out of the compartment. Her dazed eyes turned to her left where the aisle led down to where Malfoy had been sitting in another compartment. She noted it was empty except for the blonde and a taller male she recognized to be Theodore Nott.


End file.
